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A 

Twentieth Century 
Boy 


By 

Marguerite Linton Glentworth 

(“ Gladys Dudley Hamilton ”) 


With Illustrations by Charles Copeland 



Boston 

Lee and Shepard 

1901 




the LJBftAF.Y OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two Copiea Received 

AUG. )0 1901 

Copyright entrv 

Tytcu^. /, 

CLASS O^XXa No. 

COPY 8. 


Copyright, 1901, by Lee and Shepard, 


All Rights Reserved. 


A Twentieth Century Boy. 


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Norwood Press 

y. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 


STo fHg Brotj^er 

HENRY RICHARDS GLENTWORTH 


THE ‘'SMALL BOY ’’ OF MY STORY 
THIS BOOK 

IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 













CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 



PAGE 

I. 

How it All came about . 

. 

11 

II. 

Jack’s Reign Begins 


15 

III. 

In Borrowed Feathers . 


19 

IV. 

A Hundred-dollar Prize . 


24 

V. 

“ Lord Manners ” . . . . 


33 

VI. 

Scarlet Fever 


39 

VII. 

“ The Greatest Show on Earth ” 


46 

VIII. 

Miss Baxton objects to the Kneipp < 

Cure 

55 

IX. 

The Passing of “ Lord Manners ” . 


61 

X. 

A Suppressed Epistle 


68 

XI. 

Crabs, Nightmares, and Jellyfishes 


75 

XII. 

The Glorious Fourth 


82 

XIII. 

Midnight on the Fourth . 


91 

XIV. 

A Vain Alarm .... 


100 

XV. 

Constable Walker’s Visit 


110 

XVI. 

The Dominie’s Donation Party 


118 

XVII. 

Mrs. Leonard’s Baby 


127 

XVIII. 

Wedding Bells .... 


137 

XIX. 

A Night’s Tragedy . . . . 

7 


145 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEB 

XX. 

Stamford 

PAGE 

. 1*56 

XXI. 

The Tragical End of Mrs. Thornton 

. 161 

XXII. 

Lee Gorman’s Balloon Ascent 

. 176 

XXIII. 

The Century Race .... 

. 186 

XXIV. 

Rehearsals 

. 203 

XXV. 

Jack’s Great Success 

. 218 

XXVI. 

Mrs. Powers’s New Girl . 

. 238 

XXVII. 

Dabs of Paint 

. 254 

XXVIII. 

The Night of the Great Fire . 

. 267 

XXIX. 

From Death unto Life . 

. 286 

XXX. 

The End of the Reign . 

. 297 


8 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


\ 

Jack . 


Frontispiece 




“ I tell you, that dog attracts attention ” 

His present beat all the rest 

“ Colonel, if this man is to your liking, he’s not to 
mine ” 


PAfJTC 



Jack ... as Becket stood on a stool before the 
mirror 

Heaven was our destination 


208 



9 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


CHAPTER I. 

HOW IT ALL CAME ABOUT. 

J ACK viewed the situation with equa- 
nimity; I with hopeless despair. I 
had expostulated, but to no avail. Jack 
was to be left in my care for the summer. 
Jack! If it had been any one but him, I 
wouldn’t have cared. A savage, thought 
I ; give me anything but Jack. He is more 
than one person ought to be compelled to 
bear alone. How was I in the weak posi- 
tion of being his sister to hold any master 
hand over him ? He had promised to 
mind me, he had promised to be good. 
Tell me when a small boy’s promises ever 
came to anything. 

All these things I brought up before my 
mother when she contemplated Europe in 
the early spring and thought of this plan 
11 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


for Jack and me. Had my aunt, who was 
to accompany her, filled her mind with 
such dreams of Europe that she forgot 
what a bad boy her small son was, and 
what a weak nobody ’’ I was in his pres- 
ence ? Had she forgotten it, she, his proud 
but tormented mother for twelve long 
years? Did she not remember how ven- 
turesome he was, and that where we were 
to spend our summer ” there were six deep 
ponds, and Jack couldn’t swim a stroke? 
All this I brought up long before she had 
decided to go, and when I found that her 
tickets were purchased and our board ” 
engaged in the country, I went to my room 
and wept. I had expostulated in vain. 

A week from that day found my mother 
accompanied by my adventurous aunt on 
the Atlantic, and I in the country with 
Jack and a maid. We had been there only 
two days, and he hadn’t given me a 
moment’s trouble. He had been fishing 
a little, but directly in front of the house. 
What puzzled me most, however, was, since 
12 


HOW IT ALL CAME ABOUT. 


our arrival there he had taken a great 
fancy to books and spent most of the time 
on the piazza reading. This was a strange 
occurrence. He had never been known to 
read at home, — not even a newspaper ; and 
to see him now, wild as he was, coiled up in 
a large hammock, the very picture of inno- 
cence and happiness, and reading ! — Per- 
haps I was reforming him. My influence 
over him might be better than my moth- 
er’s, which is excellent. Who knew but 
that this summer was to be the great turn- 
ing-point in Jack’s life? How different he 
had already become ! He went to bed 
when I told him to do so, without any 
coaxing. He rose in the morning at my 
command, and, best of all, he gave me no 
trouble at the table. 

There were only a few boarders in the 
house, five elderly women (who regarded 
Jack’s coming and going with suspicion) 
and one man — Jack’s friend. If the boy 
had been a saint from heaven, he couldn’t 
have listened to him more attentively or 
13 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


with more interest. He had travelled a 
great deal abroad, and amnsed Jack with 
stories and anecdotes of his travels. He 
taught him how to carve in wood, and he 
would have been the greatest help to me 
in managing him, if he had only been a 
younger man. He was seventy. My small 
brother soon tired of this friendship, as I 
feared he would, and no longer was his 
devoted slave, as he had been since their 
acquaintance of five days past. He was 
no longer interested in carving, and the 
old gentleman's stories, he frankly con- 
fessed, were old yarns,” and the man was 
an old bore,” anyway. So in this abrupt 
way, a coolness arose between Colonel 
Henry Montague Lyons and John Van 
Kensselaer Crowninshield Elliott. 


14 


CHAPTER II. 


jack’s reign begins. 

I T was Sunday afternoon. Jack had not 
been seen since dinner-time. It was 
now well past five o’clock. I hardly dared 
to go in search of him, for he had departed 
in anything but an amiable frame of mind. 
He was already tiring of the country, and 
we had been there but a week. He longed 
for new worlds to conquer, and craved for 
excitement. Just where he had gone to 
pass the blissful solitude of that Sunday 
afternoon was a mystery to me, for the 
only information that he gave me on de- 
parting was, that he wished I’d let a feller 
alone sometimes,” — so I did. 

Six o’clock passed, and Jack failed to 
make an appearance ; but knowing his 
small idea of time, I gave it but little 
thought, and sat down alone to tea. Pres- 
16 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


ently a small hand touched my arm, and 
starting up quickly, I exclaimed : — 

Why, Jack ! ” 

Please, miss, it’s not Jack, miss,” re- 
plied a trembling voice ; and before me 
stood the dirtiest little ragamuffin, hat in 
hand. ^^Be you his sister?” he inquired 
respectfully. 

Yes,” I cried. Where’s Jack ? ” 

^^A’down to Squire Abbey’s,” he said. 

He was a-foolin’ with old J ess, you know. 
Mullin’ s devil, and the cow just gave him 
a ^ whooplah ’ over the fence.” 

Jack?” I cried, springing up. 

^^Yes, miss; but don’t be a-scared, for 
he ain’t suferin’ much,” said the little 
fellow, catching me by the arm as I has- 
tened out of the room. ^^You jist keep 
cool, an’ git your hat an’ don’t hurry, for 
he’s a-goin’ to live several hours yit, they 
all said so.” 

^^Jack!” I burst forth in a torrent of 
tears. 

^^Yes, miss, several hours yit; he was 
16 


JACK’S KEIGN BEGINS. 

just beginnin’ to die when I left, and I run 
all the way.” 

Without waiting to call Jane, and hat- 
less, I hastened to Jack's death-bed. Jack, 
the only brother I had, dying from my neg- 
lect of him. Every cross word I had ever 
spoken to him rose now like a judgment 
to my remorseful mind. What would my 
mother say when I wrote her that her boy 
was dead ? Dead, because I chose to read 
on Sunday afternoons instead of amusing 
him. I was a murderer ! 

We had now reached Squire Abbey's 
cottage, and with faint heart I followed 
the child in. 

^^Is Jack dead?” was the first thing I 
said, as a large, ruddy-faced man, followed 
by a small army of children, came toward 
me. 

You don't mean you're that 'ere little 
feller's sister, do you ? ” he cried out good- 
naturedly. Bless my stars, he went home 
ten minutes ago.” 

Went home ? ” I inquired, 
c 17 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


^^Why, yes, miss, who’s been a-fetchin’ 
you the news ? The boy ain’t hurt. He 
got a little bruised on the shin, that’s all. 
Old Jess is powerful sensitive about being 
teased, but law, miss, the boy ain’t hurt ! ” 

I thought he was dead,” said I, hardly 
able to stand. 

Well, you look scared. Sam, boy, just 
you hitch up Mollie and drive this young 
lady home.” 

No, no,” I interrupted, I would rather 
walk, I feel much better now.” And as I 
reached the road, I saw coming a very 
familiar sight, and an innocent, impatient 
voice cried out : — 

Hullo, why haven’t you been home to 
tea?” 


18 


CHAPTER III. 


IN BORROWED FEATHERS. 

J ACK gave old Jess a wide berth, from 
that eventful day; for although he 
assured me that the cow never touched him, 
I couldn’t help wondering why it was, that 
the sight of a beast with horns ” should 
have worked such a disastrous effect upon 
the seat of his Sunday trousers. But I 
didn’t ask him, and he never told me. 
Jack dislikes to be annoyed with questions. 
He says, Women always want to know 
too much ; ” and on this particular after- 
noon, one woman did want to be informed 
more thoroughly on a particular subject, 
and that person was myself. On my re- 
turn from dinner, I had found my room in 
a wild state of confusion; every bureau 
drawer was upset, the contents on the 
19 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


floor. Jack was missing, and to my ab- 
ject horror, my best dress and hat also. 

‘^What has he done with them?’' was 
my first thought as I hastened to the 
window. He was not in sight. Was he 
not content with spoiling his own suit 
without ruining mine? I rang for my 
maid. 

Jane, has Jack been into my room this 
morning?” 

She shook her head. Not that I know 
of,” she replied. He came up into my 
room about ten minutes ago to borrow an 
old dress and hat to fix up in. But as 
I hadn’t any, I suppose he went out 
again.” 

No, he didn’t,” I cried ; ^^he took mine ! 
Oh, Jane, that you should have been so 
careless ! My best suit and my gray hat 
with those expensive feathers ! Where shall 
we look for him ? ” 

^^Oh, don’t get excited,” she replied 
calmly. ^^The boy won’t hurt them; it 
isn’t likely that he’s gone far.” And with 
20 


IN BORROWED FEATHERS. 


this hope in my mind and heart, we went 
in search of him. 

No Jack was in sight as far as the eye 
could see, but on the road we met several 
boys who informed us that Jack Elliott 
had gone down to get bullfrogs at Jones’ 
Creek. Yes, they knew him, and they 
remembered he had on a gray hat with 
waving plumes.” What his object could 
have been in rigging up this particular 
afternoon, I didn’t stop to ask, but has- 
tened on to that hitherto unknown and 
undiscovered region, called Jones’ Creek.” 

My temper was well aroused by the time 
we reached the creek, for the day was 
warm, and the roads were dusty. Down 
on a low rock by the water’s edge, inno- 
cent of the approach of enemies, sat Jack 
Elliott in my best dress. 

^^John Van Rensselaer Crowninshield 
Elliott ! ” I cried, in a voice that made the 
earth around him tremble, get, up from 
that rock immediately, and account for 
your misdeeds.” 


21 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


And at that exact moment a bullfrog 
jumped out of the water, and was success- 
fully landed in the crown of my French 
hat. The boy paled and rose. 

What do you mean by ruining my best 
suit, John Elliott ! I exclaimed, with a 
fresh burst of tears, as I caught sight of 
my muddy hat. What is ever going to 
become of you?'’ 

I don't know," said Jack, meekly. 

^^Well, I know I wish you had never 
been born ; never, never 1 " 

I wish I never had," said he. 

Take off that suit this moment," I 
demanded ; you have ruined it forever." 

^^It isn't your best one/' he replied 
saucily. 

Jack Elliott, it is ; you know very well 
I have only had it a month." 

Oh, what a whopper ! it isn't new at 

all." 

Why, Jack," I cried in my desperation, 
how can you tell such outrageous stories ? " 

How can you ? " said he. 

22 


m BORROWED FEATHERS. 


you hear me? Take off that suit 
this moment.” 

I can't/’ said he, modestly. 

^^Well, you shall, you desperate boy. 
Do you hear me ? Take it off ! ” 

can’t,” he repeated, blushing, ^‘1 — I 
haven’t anything else on.” 

^‘Well, then, you march straight home, 
and take it off ! ” 

And John marched. 


23 


CHAPTER IV. 


A HUNDRED-DOLLAR PRIZE. 
LETTER from my mother telling of 



their safe arrival in England, and 
numerous interesting stories of the trip, 
brought me my first happiness in the coun- 
try, and inspired me with new courage to 
be more patient with Jack, — Jack, who 
tormented me every moment from sunrise 
to bedtime ; Jack, who would not eat 
properly at the table ; and Jack that was 
everything that was bad. I would try to 
be more patient with him, and, as my aunt 
wrote in a postscript, reprove him with 
love, and not sharp words.’’ (People always 
know more about children, who haven’t 
any.) My mother’s letter interested Jack. 
He was glad in his boy fashion to hear 
from her, but more interested in the lines 
that referred to him. Tell Jack to be a 


24 


A HUNDEED-DOLLAR PRIZE. 


good boy. Give him five dollars for spend- 
ing money, and see that he doesn’t spend it 
foolishly ; Jack has no idea of money.” 

See that he doesn’t spend it foolishly ! ” 
When did Jack Elliott ever spend any money 
wisely ? 

‘^Jack,” said I, as I counted out three 
one-dollar bills and a two, fully realizing 
that I might as well scatter it to the winds, 
be careful with this, for I won’t give you 
any more when it’s gone.” 

^^My mother will, though,” said he, as he 
tucked the bills carelessly into his trousers 
pocket, and sauntered out with the air of a 
newly rich man. 

‘^Jack,” I cried after him, ^^be careful 
with that money j don’t throw it away.” 

Oh, I know what I’m about,” he re- 
plied ; I’ll make a hundred dollars out of 
this five,” and the hall door closed with a 
bang. Jack had gone. 

Raising a window, I called to him. 
Jack, Jack ! ” 

Well, what do you want ? ” said he. 

25 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


Jack, dear, you re not going to spend all 
your money this afternoon, are you?’' I said 
coaxingly. ^^Give it to me, and I’ll put 
it in your room for you ; then it won’t get 
lost.” 

Like fun, I will,” said he, as he strode 
off whistling. 

An hour later he called to me. He was 
in the back hall by the stairs, and before I 
could get to them, he set up the wildest 
war-whooping,” which aroused Colonel 
Lyons from his afternoon nap, and caused 
general complaint throughout the house. 

Jack, Jack, I’m coming; you must not 
make such a racket in the house,” I said as 
I reached the stairs. Well, what is it ? ” 

Come down,” he said softly. 

No, I can’t, tell me here.” 

^^I’ve got a hundred-dollar prize down 
here,” he said, still softly. Come down 
and see it, all for five dollars.” 

Five dollars ! ” I groaned. Has he 
spent all his money already? Bring it 
up.” 


26 


A HUNDRED-DOLLAR PRIZE. 


I can’t/’ he said impatiently, for Mrs. 
Brown won’t let me.” 

Won’t let you ? ” I said ; what is it ? 
a horse ? ” 

No, a dog,” answered my small brother, 
and a hea-u-ty ; do come down.” 

To my horror and amazement, at the 
foot of the stairs stood Jack, and with him, 
held by a rope, the most distressed, dirtiest, 
and vilest canine creature that had prob- 
ably ever seen the light of day. 

Isn’t he a bea-u-ty ? ” said J ack, strok- 
ing his emaciated sides, as I gazed at them 
both with abated breath. 

Are you teasing me ?” I inquired anx- 
iously. 

Teasing you?” cried Jack. ^^No, I 
really got it for five dollars. Wasn’t it a 
bargain ? Don’t go and tell every one how 
cheap I got him, for I intend to sell him 
for a hundred dollars.” 

^^Jack, are you mad? That dog isn’t 
worth a home.” 

Go West ! that dog is a thoroughbred.” 

27 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Jack Elliott, who told you such a lie ? ’’ 
^^It isn't a lie, and I can get somebody 
to prove it that knows more about dogs 
than any one else in the country, and that's 
Sam Styles." 

Who is Sam Styles ? " I cried, in agita- 
tion; ^Hhe one who sold you the dog?" 

^^Yes, the very one who sold me the 
dog," pertly answered my brother, indig- 
nant at my seeming ignorance. ^^Sam 
Styles is a judge of dogs ; he has almost 
given this one away." 

^^He had better have sent him to the 
bone factory or the pond," I cried, with 
disgust. 

This breed is a thin kind," said Jack. 

The only matter with him is, he needs a 
bath, and I shall give him one now." 

Jack," I exclaimed with authority, go 
and get back your money, and return this 
dog to Sam Styles ; the quicker you go, the 
better." 

I will not," said my small brother ; I 
love this dog, and I shall keep him." 

28 


A HUNDEED-DOLLAK PEIZE. 


Jack, you act like a perfect dunce/’ I 
said, with disgust and indignation. 

That’s one on you,” said he. 

We argued no longer. Jack and I. It 
was useless. He, accompanied by the dog, 
descended to the cellar, and I retired to my 
room. He had been too much for me, and 
as usual had won the day. Jack always 
got the better of me, and I knew it. It 
was not because of his size and strength, 
for he was not large, neither could he have 
been called small. He was at that inde- 
scribable age of boyhood that is neither 
hopeful nor satisfactory. In his sweet 
childhood we had believed a great future 
was in store for Jack. He was precocious, 
advanced for his years in everything. His 
teachers marvelled at his learning, he was 
so ambitious ” every one said, and now — he 
was so changed. Jack never cared to be 
at the head of the spelling classes.” He 
said it was tiresome running to the foot all 
the time, so he decided to stay there, win- 
ning for himself the everlasting fame of 
29 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


being the poorest speller in the school. 
Jack never had distinguished himself at 
school, unless it was for bad behaviour, 
where he could not be excelled, but as 
Jack once said, Some one must take the 
booby prize.*' 

I couldn’t help wondering as I sat in my 
room and heard that repeated, ^^Whoa 
there, boy ! ” from the cellar, how his 
clothes were going to look after the dog’s 
bath; but I decided to interfere no more, 
nay, even though he insisted on bathing the 
dog in my room. I was musing thus when 
my door almost came down through the 
powerful vengeance of the cook’s fist without. 

Open this door, I tell ye, and call that 
‘ divil ’ from the laundry,” she cried. 

I trembled. It was Jack that she wanted 
me to call. Yes, Maria, I’m coming,” and 
I opened the door. 

’Sense me, but do yer know that that 
infernal wretch of a brother of yourn is 
down in my clean laundry a-washing all 
the curs in the country ? ” 

30 


A HUNDRED-DOLLAE PRIZE. 


Only one/’ I suggested quietly. 

‘^Well, I’ll be banged if the cur hasn’t 
yelled enough for fifty dogs, and that 
young ^ divil ’ went and washed him with 
the dish towels, and they’re just a sight to 
behold.” 

I’m so sorry, Maria,” I said, laying my 
hand gently upon her sunlit head ; I’m so 
sorry. I’ll call him up.” 

That’ll do a heap of good, since he’s 
not there,” cried Maria, with blazing eyes. 

Do you suppose for a minute, when I found 
out what he was doing, I let him stay f I 
guess not. I jist up with a coal scuttle, 
and fired it straight at them, and the dog 
went clean through the window, glass and 
all.” 

And the boy ? ” said I. 

You can bet your sweet life he was a 
^ goner,’ too,” said Maria. ^^I’d ha’ strung 
him up, then and there, if I’d ha’ caught 
him.” 

Oh, Maria ! ” I exclaimed. 

^^Well, I’d been equal to the occasion,” 
31 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


said she, as she rolled up her sleeves, and 
proceeded to descend the stairs. I’m 
going to make some muffins for tea,” she 
added, in an insinuating and rather apolo- 
gizing tone. 

^^Are you?” I exclaimed. ^^That will 
be a treat for us all.” 


32 


CHAPTER V. 


^^LOKD MANNEKS.” 

T 1 1HE dog had been named ^^Lord Man- 
ners/’ a name scarcely befitting him, 
yet it was Jack’s choice. He was the un- 
worthy owner of a collar which would have 
graced a royal pet, and was bought out of 
the savings of a small boy’s purse. He was 
beribboned with the most expensive and 
delicate of bows, until he finally did, to his 
owner’s great delight, cause one person to 
turn around and gaze after him. I am very 
apt to doubt Jack’s stories, but this time I 
believed him — I believed that one person 
had turned round and gazed after them ; 
I would have believed him if he had told 
me that twenty people did, for I knew the 
attraction; I had seen the dog, and what 
puzzled me was, how they ever escaped the 
eyes of the police. Jack and the dog, as 
D 33 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


they went out that memorable Sunday 
morning for a constitutional/’ caused 
great talk in the Brown boarding-house. 

It was scandalous that I should allow 
it, I overheard Miss Lee, a spinster, re- 
mark, as Jack was seen on the road at 
church time, and in full sight of the house. 

I shall avoid meeting him,” another 
said, as she religiously gathered up her 
skirts, and proceeded in an opposite direc- 
tion to church; ^^for I know if I should 
pass him, it would take my mind ofE reli- 
gious things, and tempt me to say some- 
thing very unchristianlike.” 

^^He should be kept in Sabbath morn- 
ings,” said another one, and made to read 
religious books; for if the church doesn’t 
suit him, there is no reason why he should 
be allowed to create such a disturbance 
on the Sabbath day, and especially when 
people are going to church. When my 
poor sister died, so many years ago, she 
left a little boy, not three years old, and 
I took him,” — here poor Miss Baxton 
34 


“LORD MANNERS.' 


burst into a paroxysm of tears, which 
caused a sigh from Colonel Lyons, who 
was sitting opposite to her on the piazza, 
and trying to read the morning paper. 

H’m, h’m,” I heard him say to himself, 
as he turned over another sheet. Yes, I 
took him,” she continued; ^^a bright little 
soul bursting with health and happiness 
and love for knowledge. I saw in him the 
great desire of learning what was good and 
beautiful, and instead of placing books of 
fairies and Mother Goose rhymes into his 
innocent, rose-leaf hands, I placed there 
Bible pictures, and taught him about the 
good and the bad place. I showed him an 
illustrated Dante, the pictures of the place 
prepared for the wicked, and I tried to 
impress upon his mind that that was the 
eternal home for sinners.” 

And did you succeed, dear Miss Bax- 
ton?” said a listener. 

Did I succeed ? I hope so, but I shall 
not know here ; for, poor little fellow, he 
followed his mother in four short months. 

35 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


She died in the winter-time, and the child 
faded when the spring came. He seemed 
to have lost his love for pictures, although 
he had been looking at Dante’s Illus- 
trated only the day before he died, but I 
saw that his interest was waning, so I put 
it away.” 

Did he die. Miss Baxton ? ” exclaimed 
her listener. 

Yes, he died,” she cried hysterically, 
thirty years ago this spring, and it seems 
but yesterday.” At which Colonel Lyons 
gave her an unsympathetic look and went 
into the house. 

She was meditating thus when Jack and 
the dog appeared on the scene. 

Come, Lord,” he said, come. 0, Lord, 
do hurry up.” 

^^Jack,” I exclaimed, coming from the 
hall, where I had been sitting, stop call- 
ing that dog ^ Lord.’ ” 

Why, isn’t his name Lord ? ” pertly 
answered my brother. I was calling the 
dog” 

36 



“ I TELL YOU, THAT DOG ATTRACTS ATTENTION 




“LOED MANNEES/ 


didn’t sound as if you were/’ I re- 
plied meekly ; but after that the dog was 
called Manners.” 

Much to my annoyance, all the boarders 
retired immediately, as Jack and the dog 
seated themselves in the cool shade of the 
piazza ; Jack in a large rocker recently 
vacated by Miss Baxton, his hat on the 
back of his head, and his hands in his 
pockets. 

I tell you, that dog attracts attention,” 
said he, after a few moments’ silence, during 
which I was wondering where he could have 
procured the handsome pink satin sash 
which was tied in a large bow around the 
dog’s slender body. 

“Yes, I should think that he would,” 
said I. “ By the way, J ack, where did you 
get that pink ribbon you have there on the 
dog ? ” For besides the huge bow round his 
body, he had an equally large one on his 
collar, and a smaller one with streamers on 
his tail, which made him an object of pity 
as well as ridicule. He was led by yards 
37 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


and yards of narrow ribbon of that same 
delicate shade, and Jack took it all in before 
he answered me. 

Don’t you think it’s handsome ribbon ? ” 
said he. 

Why, yes, beautiful ; but where did you 
get it ? ” 

Do you think I got it thrown at me ? ” 
he asked, putting one well-dressed foot over 
the arm of his chair, and sitting on the 
other one in boy fashion. Do you catch 
on ? ” he queried. 

Oh, yes,” I replied. 

Well, then, hop off,” said he. 


38 


CHAPTER YI. 


SCARLET FEVER. 

T he next week brought with it many 
trials and tribulations. It was a week 
that I shall ever remember as one of unde- 
served and undesired anxiety. The Styleses 
had scarlet fever, the two youngest children, 
and brothers, by the way, of that famous 
judge of dogs, Sam Styles. Sam hadn’t it, 
to be sure, as I was informed fifty times a 
day, if once, by my small brother, who 
would insist upon going there on every 
occasion. Not to see the children,” as he 
told me, but to see Sam.” Oh, Sam, how 
many times have I wished you in far-off 
Africa ! how many times have I wished that 
you had not won, at this unfortunate time, 
the fickle heart of my small brother ! It 
wasn’t because I hadn’t warned Jack, that 
he persisted on going there, for hadn’t I 
39 


A TWE^TTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


warned him ? Hadn’t I told him how very 
contagious scarlet fever was^ and how sus- 
ceptible he was to disease? His reply to 
this was, that, as he never had had an ache 
or pain in his life, he couldn’t see how I 
could truthfully say that. 

It was quite true. Jack had never been 
111 in his life, with the exception, of course, 
of his famous school headaches. Jack 
never listens to reason. I tried to explain 
to him that because he had never been ill, 
was no reason that he never could be, but it 
is so hard explaining anything to him. It 
is almost impossible, sometimes. 

Jack, you’ve no more common-sense 
than a brick,” I said one day, when I found 
it was useless talking to him any longer. 

I am a little brick,” said he. 

During the weeks that the Styleses’ house 
bore that little red and dreaded sign, Scar- 
let Fever,” Jack was as much avoided by 
the boarders as if he had had the plague. 
Whenever he was seen approaching the 
house, even a mile in the distance, each 
40 


SCAKLET FEVEE. 


one picked up her work and fled. One 
eventful day, when Jack was seen coming, 
Miss Baxton dropped a skein of silk as she 
was rushing for the stairs, and as she 
stopped to pick it up, his feet were heard 
on the piazza, and she fainted then and 
there. Jack was the terror of the house. 
The only thing that ever regarded his com- 
ing with delight was Lord Manners. Even 
if he was homely and horrible, worthless 
and miserable, he had a heart that made up 
for it all, and that heart was wrapped up 
in Jack. No valuable dog could ever have 
loved his master better than that wretch 
loved him. Jack was his idol, his dull eyes 
always brightened at his approach, his wiry 
tail wagged, he was all animation ; and with 
me, — he never threw me as much as a kind 
look. He simply despised me. 

It was late one afternoon in June. Jack 
had not been home to dinner, in fact, I had 
not seen him since breakfast ; but as he was 
a great favourite among the farmers and 
country people generally, I supposed he had 
41 


A TWENTIETH CENTHEY BOY. 


enjoyed to his heart’s satisfaction a good 
dinner elsewhere. The scarlet fever was 
about over at the Styleses’. To my great 
relief, Jack had had no symptoms of it, 
for which I thanked Heaven, and he had 
obeyed me, by staying well away from the 
house during the convalescence. Twice I 
had taken him to the village doctor, for 
every time a mosquito bit him, I feared it 
was the dreaded disease appearing at last. 
Nothing ever worries Jack. He told me he 
knew it was only a mosquito bite, but if I 
was so anxious to spend my money, he was 
perfectly willing to go to the doctor’s and 
give it to him ; so, as I said before, I took 
him there twice, and came away both times 
comforted and reassured. 

It was almost tea time, when, from my 
bedroom window I beheld Jack; yes, the 
happy Jack. He was, as usual, whistling, 
and strolling contentedly along. When he 
saw me, he waved his cap, and called to 
me to come down; he had something to 
show me. What he had to show, I fancied, 
42 


SCARLET EEVER. 


was in the large bundle which was under 
his arm. must have been given to 

him/’ thought I, as I hastened out of the 
room^ for I was quite sure this time that no 
fortune had been squandered, for his pocket- 
book, when he went out that morning, con- 
tained but the small sum of five cents. 
When I reached the piazza. Jack was there, 
also the Misses Lee, Baxton, and Fremont, 
engaged in knitting. 

They were no longer afraid of Jack, which 
was a comfort to me, since I assured them 
that he had not recently visited the Styleses. 
By saying that they were not afraid of him, 
does not imply that they were on intimate 
terms with my small brother, for they were 
not. They never had been, and as Jack 
told me himself, plainly, but truthfully, he 
didn’t know the old cats to speak to.” And 
it looked so. Jack, with his bundle tightly 
clasped in his arms, was seated on the steps, 
the Misses Lee, Baxton, and Fremont eying 
him cautiously from their respective places 
on the other end of the piazza. A mad dog 
43 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


couldn’t have been watched closer than poor 
harmless little Jack. 

Well, dear,” said I, coming out, what 
have you to show me ? ” 

The three ladies ceased knitting and 
watched. 

You know the Styleses, don’t you ? ” 
said he, untying the string. At which each 
lady glanced from one to the other with a 
puzzled expression on her anxious face. 

Yes,” I replied ; you haven’t been near 
them again, have you ? ” 

The children are all well now,” said 
Jack ; they’ve been fumigating the house 
to-day, and I’ve been helping them burn the 
things,” and then, his eyes beaming with 
delight, he opened the bundle. ^^Look,” 
said he, what I’ve saved from the fire.” 

There were three piercing screams, and 
before I could realize the awful state of 
affairs, the Misses Baxton, Lee, and Fre- 
mont fled past us, and into the house. 

Jack ! ” I cried, not from that house 
where they’ve had scarlet fever?” 

44 


SCAKLET EEVER. 


« Why not ? ” said Jack, surprised at the 
excitement he had created. They're per- 
fectly good toys." 

Jack," I expostulated, ^Hhey will give 
us all scarlet fever." But I had no longer 
to argue on that point, for the Browns’ 
hired man appeared on the scene, as re- 
quested by Miss Baxton, and without wait- 
ing for Jack’s decision or permission, carried 
off the treasured mementos, and made a 
bonfire of them in the yard. 


45 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH. 

IKE trouble, excitement never comes 



-Li alone, and when the scarlet fever 
fright had worn off, and the Misses Lee, 
Baxton, and Fremont were again in their 
normal state of mind, a circus came to 
town. Jack was wild with delight. It 
wasn’t Barnum and Bailey’s, to be sure, 
but one equally good, if not a little better, 
in the opinion of my enthusiastic small 
brother, who believed every poster to be 
true to life, and everything much better 
than advertised. Jack was in anxious ex- 
pectation for the day to arrive, — June 7, 
but two days off. 

The sensational posters were everywhere, 
and had been, for the past week : — 


46 


THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH 


coMiJsran 

THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH!!! 

Ketchum & Cheatham, Sole Owners. 


BE SURE AND SEE 

THE SMALLEST MAN IN THE WORLD! 

HALF THE SIZE OF A FLEA. 

Can only be seen through a Powerful Magnifying 
Glass. Talks and Laughs. 

SPECIAL ENGAGEMENT OF 

« LARGETTE/’ 

THE LARGEST WOMAN IN THE WORLD! 
Height, 20 feet. Weight, 1000 pounds. 

Travels in a car presented to her by Queen Victoria. 
A Great Sight. 

JUNE 7th. one day ONLY. 

THE HUMAN TOP! 

A Boy who has never ceased Spinning from Birth. 
Nine Years Old. A Living Wonder. 

ONE SONG ONLY. 

“HOME, SWEET HOME”— THE GREAT FAVOURITE I 

BY 

MADAME PATTY 

NO SKIN. — SURELY COMING. 

(Only appearance in the country.) 

The Last and Real Farewell of Patty. 

47 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


AT THE ENORMOUS EXPENSE OF ONE 
MILLION OF DOLLARS! 

(Loaned for One Exhibition Only.) 

THE CROWN OF GERMANY! 

POSITIVELY NO FAKE. 


THE GREATEST COLLECTION OF 
FREAKS LIVING! 

GLASSIE, 

THE GREAT GLASS EATER. 

(All others imitators.) 

PROF. MAURICE DE BOUCHETTE, 

THE FIRE EATER. 

(Eats Live Coals before Your Eyes !) 

and so on, until you wonder that there are 
any sane people left in the world through 
which this show has passed. Even my 
steady, sensible head was turned by the 
posters. Why not little Jack’s? Could 
I wonder at his enthusiasm, when I had 
seen the bill-boards and read of the twelve 
hundred freaks employed ? My head, too, 
was dazed. My reason was fast taking 
leave of me, and I realized it. Would I 
go to the circus? Certainly. I promised 
Jack, and before I had time to realize my 
48 


THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH 


approaching insanity, I had given him two 
dollars for our seats. I needed a guardian 
more than Jack. As I look back upon 
it, I realize how ridiculous it must have 
appeared to people who regarded me as 
a model and a martyr. I am ashamed of 
it now myself, but it is too late. 

I can no longer hold my high seat in the 
estimation of the most particular. I lost 
my character, my high standing, and my 
reason, in the eyes of the Misses Lee, Bax- 
ton, and Fremont, the afternoon that I 
departed for the circus. 

Did I believe that I was going to hear 
Patti sing? Was I so foolish, to think I 
was to see the real crown of Germany ? 
I cannot say what my thoughts were. 
Jack’s praise and enthusiasm had com- 
pletely turned my head. I was as totally 
incapable of managing my money as of 
taking care of my brother. 

We went to the circus. Jack and I, and 
were, with others, disappointed at not hear- 
ing Patti sing, but ^^she was indisposed,” 
E 49 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


which, of course, the managers were very 
sorry for. It was not their fault, however, 
and no one blamed them. 

The crown of Germany had been stolen 
on the way, and Mr. Cheatham o:Eered a 
clean million’’ for the capture of the 
thief, and the return of the crown. Jack 
believed it, and went as far as to declare 
that ‘‘ he knew Sam Styles stole it.” Jack 
was very frank in expressing his opinion of 
him which was not what it used to be. He 
was positive that Sam had the crown, and 
he meant to inform Mr. Cheatham of the 
fact, and probably would have done so, if 
he hadn’t been so stung the next moment 
at hearing of the death of little Smallie, the 
man half the size of a flea, that his indigna- 
tion turned to grief, and he forgot about the 
crown. 

Poor little Smallie,” the manager said, 
wiping an imaginary tear from his eyes, as 
he stood on the platform, and held up 
before the audience a glass bowl, while 
the hand that held it trembled. ‘^Little 
50 


THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH 


Smallie will never talk any more/’ he said, 
he has gone home/’ and to my indignant 
amazement, Jack fell into my arms, and 
cried aloud. He recovered sufficiently, 
however, the next moment, to join the 
crowd around the mysterious glass bowl.” 

I can’t see anything,” said Jack ; 
where is he ? Isn’t his body in there ? ” 
all in one breath. 

‘‘ It is,” politely answered the manager. 
It takes a very powerful magnifying glass 
to see ^ Smallie,’ but we’re not supposed to 
furnish them for the crowd.” 

Oh, aren’t you?” said Jack, meekly. 
Should people bring them ? ” he asked, 
taking a last glance in the bowl, in the 
great hopes of seeing something. 

I’m not a walking encyclopaedia,” cried 
the man, as he hurried from the stage. 

The next on the programme, was Bess,” 
a dancer, who looked surprisingly like a 
late servant in the Brown boarding-house, 
but who was advertised as from Australia.” 
Following that came the human top,” a 
61 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


peculiar something that whir-r-led on the 
back of the stage, and looked more mechani- 
cal than human. Several chariot-races 
followed this disappointment, and succeeded 
in making a more lasting impression on my 
dress than on me, for the mud and dirt 
flew as freely as the pink lemonade that 
was ladled out to thirsty customers at the 
door. 

Jack ate peanuts and drank lemonade, I 
being wholly oblivious of the fact that it 
was my pocket-book he had in his posses- 
sion. He bought books, containing the 
history of the different freaks and wonders, 
and studied their lives with interest. 

The reason for Mr. Cheatham’s posses- 
sion of the German crown — Jack read — 
was through some meritorious service of an 
ancestor to one of the emperors. This, 
Jack faithfully believed ; and when I asked 
him if he had seen the crown, he replied. 
No ; neither have you.” 

When the circus was over, our first 
thought was to see ^^Largette,” the one- 
52 


THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH. 


thousand-pound giantess. She was in a side 
tent, owing to her great size and strength, 
the manager gave out, and everybody 
would be given a free ticket to see her on 
leaving the tent. He warned people right 
and left not to pay extra for the tickets. 
^^If they ask a price, refuse it. Only a 
limited number of tickets issued. First 
come, first served,” he cried. Don’t rush, 
be manly, boys. Give the ladies first show. 
Enough for all,” and at a signal, a shrill 
little voice at the door piped out : — 

^^Here, get your tickets for Largette, 
greatest wonder of the age,” and from all 
parts of the tent, there was a general 
stampede for the door. Children were 
knocked down and trampled upon. 
Women screamed. Men swore, and in 
that motley crowd, borne along with the 
rest, were little Jack and I. We managed 
to get two of that limited supply ” of 
tickets, and proceeded to find Largette. 

Keep to your right for Largette,” 
yelled the man after us, fifty times a minute, 
53 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


as he gave out the tickets and made us 
move on at a man-killing rate. 

For over an hour, long after the crowd 
had given up in disgust, Jack and I were 
still there, looking for Largette, and prob- 
ably would still be ‘^on the march” if the 
circus hadn’t packed up and moved off 
before our very eyes, and, to my great sur- 
prise and delight, left two of the greatest 
clowns behind. 


54 


CHAPTER YIII. 


MISS BAXTON OBJECTS TO THE KNEIPP CURE. 

‘‘ T I IHERE’S no use talking/’ said Jack, 
a ^ feller ’ isn’t half so comfortable 
on a warm day as he is with his shoes and 
stockings o£E ; you can’t back it,” said he. 

It was almost time for breakfast, and 
Jack, who had been dressing in the outer 
room close to my door, hesitated when he 
got to the above-mentioned articles. He 
cast an inquiring eye at me, as he spoke, 
and waited for my decision. I gave him 
none, but proceeded to finish my own 
dressing, in the art of tying a ^^four in 
hand ” before a very trying glass. 

must say you’re a dandy at that,” 
said Jack, watching me from where he sat, 
on the very threshold of my premises, 
which, as our rooms adjoined, he considered 
as much his as mine. I made no reply, but 
65 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


thought much as I ran a pin deep under 
my thumb nail. 

Jack continued to watch me. 

^^Well, Jack/' I exclaimed, turning 
quickly and facing him, at which he and 
his chair disappeared to safer quarters. 

If you want to say anything to me, now 
is the time to say it, and don’t hesitate 
another moment.” 

Jack, with a broad grin on his face, ap- 
peared, and bowed in a very aggravating 
fashion. ^‘1 was going to ask you,” said 
he, ^^if you wouldn’t like to borrow my 
trousers ? You might as well do the thing 
properly, now that you’re about it,” and he 
held out to me his Sunday gray ones. 

You’ve got suspenders on, a man’s shirt, 
vest, and tie, and a skirt don’t match. 
Here, I’ll lend you these.” 

Giving him a desperate look, I hastily 
adjusted a bow tie and left the room. 

Breakfast ordered, I was deep in the 
Morning Trumpet, a paper of all news and 
none ; when, glancing up, I beheld an ago- 
56 


OBJECTS TO THE KNEIPP CUBE. 

nized look upon the usually calm and sober 
face of my opposite neighbour at table. Miss 
Baxton. What was the commotion ? Miss 
Lee hurriedly left the room, and Miss Debo- 
rah Sarah Ann Fremont was about to do 
likewise, when Jack, barefooted and bare- 
legged crossed the room. 

^^You didn’t say I couldn’t, so I did,” 
said he, as he sat down. 

^^Did what?” I asked, still unconscious 
of his appearance. 

^^Why, don’t you see?” he exclaimed, 
thrusting a sunburnt leg and foot upon 
the table. Miss Baxton screamed, and 
another elderly woman, who had arrived 
the day before, hastily covered her face 
with her napkin in abject horror. 

^^Jack,” I cried, don’t you know any 
better ? ” 

“ Now don’t get excited,” he said, remov- 
ing his foot ; they want to act innocent 
like sixteen-year-old girls. They think it 
looks smart, but it don’t.” 

^^Jack Elliott,” I exclaimed, rising, ^^you 
57 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


march from this room ; I’ll hear no more of 
your impudence. Do you hear me? Get 
up and go'' 

When I get some breakfast, I will,” he 
replied, not one second before. Mary, 
bring me some burnt toast, some soft-boiled 
eggs, some weak coffee ; but first of all, some 
raw oatmeal with skimmed milk, and don’t 
be all night getting it either.” 

Don’t bring him one thing, Mary,” I 
said, ^^not until he can order properly.” 

Well, you have got cheek, I must say,” 
he exclaimed, with indignation ; you come 
down first, and stuff, and then you don’t 
want me to have a thing.” 

Stuff ? That’s a pretty word. No, you 
shall not have one thing, if you can’t order 
like other people.” 

Jack burst into tears. You’re trying to 
kill me,” he sobbed, ^^by starvation. I 
always do order like other people, and they 
— they — always bring me opposite to what 
I order. I — I — I thought if I asked for 
raw oatmeal, they’d do the opposite and 
58 


OBJECTS TO THE KHEIPP CUBE. 

cook it, and bring me cream, if I ordered 
skimmed milk. 0 dear, 0 dear, 0 dear,” 
he sobbed, I am so hungry.” 

Mary, bring him his breakfast ; he is the 
worst baby IVe ever seen.” 

And you’re the worst nurse,” he sobbed, 
burying his head on the table. 

You’d better be careful. Jack; your head 
is almost in the berry dish. If you don’t 
move it, you’ll knock it over.” And Jack, 
who was in a horrible state of mind, took 
his hand and gave it a hard push, which 
sent the berries to all parts of the room, and 
the glass dish to destruction. I had seen 
enough. I retired to the piazza, where I 
was met by Miss Baxton. She came for- 
ward, and took my hands in hers. 

I’m so sorry for you,” she said feelingly, 
sorry for you from the very depths of my 
heart. I never realized until this morning 
your trying position. Let me from this day 
be a help to you, and your friend.” 

The tears sprung to my eyes, I sank into 
a chair, and covered my face with my hands. 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


The responsibilities and excitement were too 
much for me. Miss Baxton had realized 
it, and we were friends from that day ; 
better, perhaps, for having lived through 
the past. 


60 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE PASSING OF LORD MANNERS. 

^ /T ANNERS seems to be quite ill this 

AT-L morning/’ said Colonel Lyons, com- 
ing out on the piazza where Miss Baxton 
and I were seated. He drew up a much- 
abused rocker and sat down. It’s too bad 
about the dog ; Jack thinks you’ve poisoned 
him,” he added, gazing at me intently. 

I looked up and laughed. “ I never did 
such good work. Colonel,” I replied. ^^In 
fact, it’s something I should never have 
thought of.” 

^^So I told little Jack,” he said, ^^but 
the boy has got it into his head that you 
were displeased with him, and sought that 
revenge. He’s crying bitterly about it.” 

Did he have any shoes or stockings on 
when you saw him ? ” I asked curiously. 

The Colonel shook his head in the nega- 
61 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


tive. ^^No; I believe he said he hadn't 
a pair to his name." 

And shoes ? " 

Well, I think he did say he had a pair 
of shoes, if I remember correctly," said the 
Colonel, evidently annoyed at my indiffer- 
ence and seeming neglect of him. 

Don’t you think," he added, almost 
involuntarily, ^Hhat you’d better go and 
see the dog? Poor little Jack doesn’t 
know what to do." 

^^Why, certainly,” I said, as I folded 
up my work and laid it down. ^^I’ll go. 
Where is the noble Manners? Out in 
the stable ? ’’ 

^^Oh, no," said Colonel Lyons. ^^Oh, 
no. He’s up in your room. Jack thought 
it would be pleasanter for him. I helped 
carry him up." 

I stared at him in speechless horror. 

Miss Baxton removed her gold-rimmed 
spectacles, and rose. ^^Were you such a 
fool," she exclaimed, ^^as to carry that 
beast of beasts up into a bedroom?" 

62 


THE PASSING OF LOED MANNERS. 


That was all I heard, for, without wait- 
ing to hear his reply, I hastened to my 
room. Yes, Jack was there, and the 
door was locked. 

Jack,” I cried, in both anger and des- 
peration, ^^open the door this moment.” 

Haven’t you got any more common- 
sense than that ? ” he asked, holding up a 
warning finger, as he admitted me. Here 
I’ve been getting Manners to sleep for the 
past hour, and it was awfully hard work.” 

Speechless and unmoved, I gazed at the 
scene before me. Manners was asleep in 
my bed, his head on my pillow! Bottles 
containing numerous things lay about him. 

I’ve been bathing his head with cam- 
phor,” Jack said. ^^It seemed just the 
thing for him, for he went right off to 
sleep the minute he smelt it.” 

Camphor,” I said, ^^I haven’t a drop 
with me.” 

Go on,” said Jack, I found a big 
bottleful in the closet. See,” and he held 
it up. 


63 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


^^Jack Elliott/’ I exclaimed, that’s 
chloroform! I bought it to clean that 
gray dress of mine you ruined. Ask Jane, 
if you want to ; she was with me when I 
got it.” 

Jack gasped. ^^Are you joking?” he 
asked pitifully ; the bottle was marked 
^Camphor.’ ” 

I know it ; it was a bottle I had with 
me. I suppose they forgot to change the 
label,” I said. bought it up here in 
the country.” 

Without waiting another moment. Jack 
pulled the pillow from under Manners’s head. 

soaked it with it,” he gasped, ‘^for 
I thought it was camphor. You always 
put it on my pillow,” he said, ^^when 
I’ve got a headache, don’t you ? ” 

Not chloroform. Jack.” 

^^No, but camphor, don’t you?” said he. 

Oh, Manners, what shall I do ? Wake up. 
Manners, wake up ! ” he cried. 

I drew near, saw the consequences, and 
went out. In the hall I met Mrs. Brown. 

64 


THE PASSING OE LOED MANNEES. 


you call Michael?” I asked. 

Tell him to come up and get the dog ; 
he has just died in my bed.” 

Manners’s death was a sore grievance to 
his young master. It is a death I shall 
never get over,” he said, as the dog’s re- 
mains were taken from my room by the 
Browns’ man, who was disgusted with the 
work allotted him. 

I’m pretty good at farmin’ an’ the 
stable,” he explained, as he rolled up his 
sleeves, and pushed his cap to the back of 
his head; “but law, I’m no dog’s under- 
taker — I draw the line there ! ” 

“ But you’ll bury Manners ?” I suggested 
quickly, catching him by the arm, for I 
feared he was about to leave the work 
to me. 

“ Yes’m, being it’s you that axed me. I’ll 
do it,” he replied cheerfully, as he deposited 
two crisp bills in a worn-out pocket-book. 

“Here, Michael,” said Jack, springing for- 
ward, “ take mine ; that pocket-book of yours 
is no good.” And he handed him, much 

F 65 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


to my annoyance and vexation, his own, a 
handsome and entirely new Russia leather 
one. 

^^Jack, dear,’’ I said sweetly, ^^keep 
yours, and let me get one for Michael. I 
am quite sure he would like a stouter one 
better.” 

Yes’m ; an’ not so fancy-like,” he sug- 
gested, rubbing his fingers over the silver 
ornaments, as he handed it back. One 
without that ’ere silver on it I’d like 
better.” 

‘^But those silver corners are just the 
style,” explained Jack, anxious to part with 
it, ^^and those are my initials. Look, Mi- 
chael ; it has a place for railroad tickets, bills, 
and loose change. This place opens, and 
there you are, — a fine memorandum book, 
and a pencil,” said Jack, showing off its 
many springs and charms. ‘‘1 bet you 
never saw one like it, did you ? ” he asked. 

Michael hesitated, his eyes fairly danced. 
He glanced at the book, and then at me. 
There came a knock at the door. Michael 
66 


THE PASSING OF LOED MANNEES. 


went to his work^ and Jack hastened to 
open it. 

^^Is Michael at embalming the body?” 
said Maria, stiffly, as she gave her mortified 
countryman a low courtesy. ^^When you 
he’s through, if you plaze, Michael, you 
would obleege me by taking that box o' 
yourn from my kitchen ; I shall get no 
dinner in an undertaker s shop.” 

I'll be down in a minute, Maria,” said 
the man, colouring; and, without another 
thought of foolish things, Michael Brogan 
kept his word. 

Jack would not have Manners, or ^^his 
friend,” as he called him, buried in the plot 
assigned him, close to the stable. It wasn't 
a pleasant place, he thought ; so to suit little 
Jack, Mrs. Brown finally consented to hav- 
ing him placed in her garden under a tall, 
drooping willow, which now shades his 
grave. On it there is a curious little sign 
that reads : Here lies Lord Manners, 
Friend of Jack’s.” 


67 


CHAPTER X. 


A SUPPRESSED EPISTLE. 

WISH Manners was living; Pm so 
J- lonely, I don’t know what to do.” 
The speaker, who was none other than my 
small charge, was leaning on the window- 
sill, looking out. His head was resting on 
his hands, and his face was the picture of 
loneliness. 

You have me. Jack dear,” I said; can’t 
I do anything to amuse you ? ” 

It was a rainy day, a repetition of what 
we had had for the past week. There were 
no signs of clearing up, and it seemed to 
rain harder and harder every moment. 

There was nothing for Jack to do in the 
house. He had played at railroad, with the 
piazza chairs for cars, as long as he was 
allowed to, until his too frequent railroad 
smash-ups” had resulted in the absolute 
68 


A SUPPEESSED EPISTLE. 


ruin of five of the best chairs, and then 
Mrs. Brown interfered. 

She had sat still all the morning and 
seen one after the other go in quick succes- 
sion, without uttering a single protest; but 
at the sixth smash-up of the Boston Ex- 
press ’’ she drew the line, and the combined 
engineer, conductor, and brakeman retired 
to the laundry, where he vented his enraged 
feelings on the cook by filling up her wash- 
tubs with coal. He then put some kerosene 
in the cider keg, and retired to await the 
coming of the storm.’' As not even a 
breeze stirred in his direction. Jack decided 
that she wasn’t the suspicious character he 
had always thought her.” 

Don’t you wish Manners was alive?” 
he asked, after a few moments of silence. 

I do,” was my untruthful reply. 

I murdered him, didn’t I ? ” said my 
small brother. Don’t you call that mur- 
der ? ” he asked, turning around and facing 
me. 

0 dear, no, that wasn’t murder ; the 
69 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


dog was old ; Michael said he’d been ail- 
ing for weeks. He thought he died of old 
age.” 

Do you suppose he would have died any- 
way, whether I’d given him the chloroform 
or not, or did that kill him?” he burst 
forth. 

He would have died anyway,” were my 
comforting words ; you didn’t kill him any 
more than I did, who wasn’t there.” 

Oh, I’m so glad to hear you say so ! 
Poor, darling Manners ! ” 

Our new rooms were not as pleasant as 
the last ones had been, before the dog’s 
death, for they were on the next floor, and 
not even adjoining. Jack disliked them 
even more than I did, if that were possible, 
and was perfectly wretched in such small 
quarters. 

How I do wish I was home,” he said, 
throwing himself on the bed and weeping 
bitterly. The word ^^home” suggested a 
happy thought to my confused mind. 

Write to mother. Jack,” I cried; ^^I’U 

70 


A SUPPRESSED EPISTLE. 


get you some paper and the ink, and she’d 
be simply delighted to hear from you.” 

Got a stamp ? ” he asked, as he rose and 
stretched himself. 

^^No, dear; but when you have finished 
you can get one downstairs.” 

That’ll be all right,” said Jack, as he 
sat down and began to try his pen on 
numerous sheets of my best paper. That 
pen works dandy to-day. Now don’t speak 
a word, or move, or anything, and I’ll 
begin.” And in the deep silence of the 
room I heard a fly buzzing downstairs. 

After an hour of such silence, during 
which he tried and spoiled an entire box 
of pens, one after the other, and ruined 
more paper than I should use in a month, 
I noticed he had written but two words, 
^^Dere Mama.” Slowly the pen moved; 
a snail trying a race with it would have 
beaten it any day. I groaned inwardly. 

^^Are you going to write a very long 
letter. Jack dear ? ” I inquired, as he tried 
another pen, and sighed heavily. 

71 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


am/’ came his deliberate answer — ^^a 
very, very long one.” 

^^Well, then, I don’t think I’ll stay,” I 
said, as I rose. 

As you please,” said he, as I closed the 
door. 

The letter was finished at tea time. He’d 
been a long time writing it, and I regretted 
exceedingly having to destroy it, but it was 
necessary that I should do so. Jack never 
heard of it ; perhaps it is better that he 
never did. 

Here is his letter : — 

“ Dbre Mama : I thought you mite like to 
get a letter from your Boy. Sister never lets 
me put a Line in hers, because she says I’d spoil 
the hole thing, because I rite so poorly. I bet 
you don’t think so, I told her so two, and she sed 
‘Well, I dont care what anyboddy thinks, you 
can tell me what you want to say, and I’ll rite 
it for you, but your Pen is’nt going to touch this 
Letter.’ Thats what she always says, but I told 
her that she could kepe her old Leter for rather 
than let her no what I want to say, I’d rather 
say nothing, so thats the reason dere Mama, you 
havent herd from your Boy befor. Its verry 
72 


A SUPPRESSED EPISTLE. 


hard for me to rite a long letter, but as you 
havent herd from me befor, I will rite you one 
just to tell you that I am allive, and pretty well. 
I dont suppose Sister ever says anything about 
me in her Leters, so you wouldent no unles I 
rote whether I was allive or dead, would you ? 
Its pretty good up hear in the Country, and I 
like it verry much, for there is verry good swim- 
ming, which is the best of all the Sport. The 
plase where I all ways go in 3 boys were drowned 
in just befor I came, so you see its a nice deep 
plase. Some Boys set a barn afire the other 
night, and my, talk about sport. I was just in 
it. We played we were firemen and I was 
Chief, so I had to be brave. I stood rite on the 
top of the Barn rite in the Fire, and when I felt 
the beems cracking, I hollered Its gone Boys, 
and jumped. I wasent hert a bit, though some 
of the fellers thought I was gone for sure, but I 
wasent. I forgot to tell you that the fellers 
I play with are verry nice fellers, they live in 
the village. I dont go with Sam any more, he 
is a mean sneak, my frends now are dandys, 
sister dont like them, but you no how perticular 
she is. She is so dredfully gone on herself that 
she thinks everyboddy is comon. I dont like 
that in her a bit. Sister is verry stingy with 
her money, she gives me so little, that if you 
dont make her give me more, I will be forced to 
73 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


sell my gold Watch to get some. I no a Boy 
now that wil give me 3 dolars for it cash down, 
no fooling, a Boy my age has a verry grate 
manny expences, such as candy, fish hooks, 
etc. sister is a regeler old Miser. Did she rite 
you how I cut my hand? I wont worry you, 
but you can bet your life its prety bad when I 
tel you, that if it wasent for the Rag around it, 
it would be in two peaces. I’m not a bit a 
complaneing feller, and you no it. I dont 
worry anyboddy with its horible Pane. Goodby 
dere Mama, give my verry fond Regards to 
Ant. I hope we wil meet again. I’ve dremt so 
manny times that I was drowned, and they 
buried me up hear in the Country (I meen 
when they found the Boddy) and I dremt that 
you knew nothing about it untill you came 
home to get us, and then sister told you I was 
ded, and I remember you cried and sed, O my 
Boy why dident I give you more money to 
spend ? ” Thats the reson dere Mama, I often 
wonder if you wil ever see your Boy again, for 
it mite come true, as I go in swimming every 
day. Goodbye, with lov 

“ Your little Boy 

“Jack. 

“p.s. Tell Ant to keep well, and please 
dont forget the dreme. J. E.” 


74 


CHAPTER XI. 


CRABS, NIGHTMARES, AND JELLYFISHES. 

XT'S all his fault," Jane explained, on 
-X my return from church one Sunday 
morning, when I found her deep in the 
occupation of packing her valuables, pre- 
vious to a return to her beloved New 
York." ^^It’s all his fault," she continued; 

everything you must blame on him ; I'm 
going." 

Jane," I gasped, not really, and leave 
me here alone ? " 

Yes'm, it's all his fault," she wept forth 
again, for about the fifteenth time ; that 
boy would get all the nasty, dirty, little 
kittens in the neighbourhood, and put them 
in my bed at night. I haven't said anything 
about it, but it's so. One night last week 
he put hop toads in, and yet I kept silent ; 
but last night, when I almost broke my 
75 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


head on a pile of bricks concealed in my 
pillow, I resolved to go ; and I’m going now 
for good and forever.” 

Good-by, old stickin’ plaster,” yelled 
Jack from the hall. Jane broke down at 
this, and wept aloud. 

^^Cry baby ! ” shouted Jack. 

Jack ! ” I started for the door. He 
had, in the meantime, disappeared; but a 
low, aggravating giggle came from some- 
where. I was certainly between two fires. 
^^Jane,” I said, in an almost apologizing 
tone, do please stay.” 

The giggling from ‘^somewhere” con- 
tinued. 

“ Do please stay,” a boy’s voice repeated, 
in direct imitation of mine. Sweet, dar- 
ling Jane, do please stay.” 

The girl rose. I will not,” she cried, 
impertinently and independently. 

^^Then go,” I said decidedly, and that 
afternoon Jane went. 

After that, — which was a great satisfac- 
tion to Jack, for he hated the old clown,” 
76 


NIGHTMARES AND JELLYFISHES. 


as he unjustly called her, and, as I discov- 
ered too late, had made life almost unbear- 
able for Jane during the months of her 
stay, and she had borne it all with Chris- 
tian fortitude, and a martyr’s hope, — it 
was after that that kittens, crabs, and sand 
reigned supreme topic in the Brown board- 
ing-house. There was no time when it 
ceased to be forgotten or dismissed. There 
was no night that some one was not dis- 
turbed or awakened by the sharp bite of 
a crab ’neath the same coverlet as them- 
selves, or a pitiful little cat’s voice, beg- 
ging for love and sympathy. 

Two weeks in succession Miss Baxton 
had found kittens in her bed, only one at 
a time, to be sure, but each shrill enough 
to awake the soundest sleeper in America. 
Once, and only once. Colonel Lyons had 
been treated to kittens. He seemed to be 
specially favoured with crabs; and what 
crabs his unknown tormentor sent ! They 
were really handsome specimens of the 
crab creation. Colonel Lyons knew not 
77 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


what peace meant. In his pillows — in 
fact, in every place where he wouldn’t 
think of looking — his wicked and thought- 
less tormentor secreted crabs. They bit 
him, yet he couldn’t find them ; they 
moved, yet not in sight. He lived in the 
wildest state possible without going entirely 
insane. All through the night — Jack (for 
some unknown reason) always watched — 
the light cpuld be seen in Colonel Lyons’s 
room, which was opposite ours. No mo- 
ment passed, no small second, but that 
some sound, natural or supernatural, came 
from that unhappy man’s room. 

Once a crab of unusual size and terrible 
jaws crept out of his night-shirt pocket 
and escaped, owing to the surprise and 
terror of its victim. Colonel Lyons openly 
avowed that he could shoot a man, bird, or 
beast, and wasn’t afraid to do so, but he 
was no one in the face of a crab. Where 
all the crabs came from, no one exactly 
knew. Jack, much against my persuasion, 
laid his bad little hand down on the Baxton 
78 


NIGHTMARES AND JELLYFISHES. 


family Bible, and with his blue eyes up- 
lifted to heaven to witness it (as Miss Bax- 
ton made him), he solemnly and soberly 
swore that he put no crabs or kittens in 
anybody’s room.” 

Miss Baxton, entirely satisfied, but puz- 
zled, released him; and he immediately 
retired from the scene of action to hunt 
up more crabs for the night. 

That night everybody wailed, from Maria 
down to little Gussie, the kitchen girl. Miss 
Baxton shrieked. Miss Sarah Ann Fremont 
moaned, and Colonel Lyons swore, and 
swore so loud and unceasingly, that even 
little Jack Elliott knelt down and prayed. 
I cried with vexation. True, I had not been 
a victim then, or, in fact, ever. Jack had 
left me entirely alone ; but these midnight 
rackets to me were far worse than any 
number of crabs and kittens in my bed 
could possibly have been. Sometimes, 
when the latter were scarce, a huge half 
of a watermelon, in its last stages, served 
the purpose. That had worked very suc- 
79 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


cessfully several times, but not as well as 
crabs. Sand bad been used in some of the 
rooms, and even jellyfishes did not cause 
surprise. 

Miss Mary Livingston Russell de Sage, 
the latest boarder at the house, awoke one 
morning to find that she had slept on one, 
without giving or taking offence. She was 
far from pleased. Miss Lee, the same night, 
complained of finding one in her daintily 
arranged work-basket, and threatened to 
bring her persecutor to justice if he should 
ever be found. However, with this, the 
trouble ceased. Whether the crabs and 
kittens gave out, or the jellyfishes no longer 
sought the same place, or the watermelons 
were eaten before they could possibly grow 
old and suitable, is not exactly known. The 
annoyance suddenly ceased. No one knew 
then, any more than now, who the tor- 
mentor was. He simply vanished from their 
thoughts without discovery or punishment, 
and certainly without regret. If it ever 
did form the conversation of an evening or 
80 


NIGHTMAEES AND JELLYFISHES. 


a rainy day, when happier thoughts were 
lacking, there was always a sober, inter- 
ested look upon the small face of the small 
boy of the house, and perhaps it is unkind 
of me to so rashly and unknowingly lay 
upon so young a head, my suspicions. 


81 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE GLORIOUS FOURTH. 

^"TTELL/’ said Jack, after a long and 
▼ ▼ unsatisfactory meditation, I 
don’t see how Tm going to celebrate the 
good old Fourth without any money.” 

He was seated on the top step of the 
piazza, his back resting against the wooden 
railing. As he said this, he sighed, and was 
soon lost in another deep study of a gray 
old farmhouse in the west. 

Colonel Lyons surveyed him, from the 
broad-brimmed sailor hat to his dusty little 
shoe tips. It was a grave matter, indeed, 
how little Jack was to celebrate without one 
dollar ; and, furthermore, with no prospects 
of any. Miss Baxton continued her knit- 
ting with a firm, decided look about her 
mouth. Miss Lee declared they wouldn’t 
82 


THE GLORIOUS FOURTH. 


need any fireworks/’ and Miss de Sage 
echoed it. 

Indeed we will/’ muttered little Jack, 
indignant that he should be compelled to 
live in the same house with such unpatri- 
otic people. ‘^Indeed we will/’ he said 
again; ‘^and we’re going to have some. 
Yes, you bet we are, if I have to rob the 
house some night to get the money.” 

Miss Baxton, shocked at his dishonest 
principles and wicked thoughts, laid down 
her knitting and adjusted her far-seeing 
spectacles. A second thought prevented 
an intended step, and she took them off, 
wiped them, and went on with her work. 

Jack continued to look miserable. “If 
I don’t have any fireworks, I hope I’ll get 
burnt up,” he said, in a tone of deep misery. 
He glanced up at me, who happened, at 
that moment, to be interested in the far-off 
sky, and then at the Colonel. 

“Come here, my boy,” he said, holding 
out both arms to him. “Come and sit 
down here and tell me what you want 
83 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


for the Fourth. If you have spent all 
your money, I haven’t spent mine, nay, 
not by a good deal.” 

Jack arose, smiling. 

Colonel,” I protested sweetly, ^^Jack 
has several dollars to spend on the Fourth. 
He has plenty of money to celebrate the day 
in a manner fully worthy of being recorded 
in history. If you will take my word for 
it, you will find that the day will far exceed 
your fullest expectations. Don’t let it be 
any noisier ; for depend upon it, the police 
will interfere.” 

The Colonel made me no reply. He was 
as much a child in such things as Jack. 
They both went into the house together, 
hand in hand, where they could talk it over 
without further interruption. Miss Baxton 
remained silent, but let her foot down in 
such a manner, that it caused the sleeping 
cat to awake and stretch itself, and a dog 
in the distance barked. 

The Fourth came in very silently in the 
country. Jack fully intended to fire ofi a 
84 


THE GLORIOUS FOURTH. 


salute to welcome it, but fortunately did 
not wake up in time. 

The old cracked bell in the village church 
rang in the Fourth, as it had been the 
custom for many years, and still Jack slept. 
Not a sound came from his room, save the 
heavy breathing of a very tired boy. I 
looked at the clock. It was well past one. 
I went back to bed again, and was soon fast 
asleep. 

J ack rose shortly after this, very shortly, 
through the kindness (?) of Colonel Lyons, 
who unnecessarily thought it his business 
to inform his young friend and compatriot 
of the ^Hate hour.” Ten minutes of two. 
Jack rose in haste, but silently ; motioned 
Colonel Lyons to go on and wait for him, 
and he’d soon be down. The old gentle- 
man, pleased at the renewed and restored 
friendship, crept down over the backstairs 
to the yard, where he was soon, almost 
immediately, joined by the young patriot, 
John Elliott, in a pair of ragged trousers, 
and a much-abused sweater. 

85 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


I thought I'd put on these/' he said, in 
an undertone, as he rubbed his sleepy half- 
opened eyes, and felt for a knife in his 
trousers pockets. Got a knife ? " he asked ; 

I want to untie this string. My powder 
and bullets are in there." Then, whispering 
low to his companion, he added : We'll fire 
ofi this revolver first ; it’ll wake up the dead.” 

The Colonel laughed, and produced a 
knife from a companion suit to Jack’s, prob- 
ably the very suit that served in the Civil 
War, if one may judge from appearances. 

At six minutes past two, the revolver 
went ofi five times without an intermission : 

Bang — bang — bang — bang — bang ! " 
it went. As the last sound died away. 
Colonel Lyons raised his old musket, and 
sent some more shots heavenward, which 
much disturbed the rest of the sleeping. 

It was well past three when I was 
thoroughly awakened by a glare of light, 
and a cry of fire. The next moment, I was 
snatched from my bed by excitable Maria, 
who bore me off to a place of safety. 

86 


THE GLORIOUS EOURTH. 


Fire ! fire ! fire ! ’’ she cried. 

Fire ! fire/’ echoed Miss Baxton, appear- 
ing on the scene before me, in an unpresent- 
ably short nightgown and a red flannel 
skirt, and dragging after her a large and 
heavy trunk. How shall I escape?” she 
wailed, as an object of pity. 

I now realized the terrible situation. 
Jack, my brother, and that wretched old 
Colonel,” as Miss Baxton savagely called 
him, had set the house afire, and we were 
all burning up alive. 

Jack, I was informed by some one, and 
the Colonel, had been arrested for arson, 
and were now in jail. It was surely no 
dream, as on waking I had hoped it was. 
It was a living truth and reality. What 
should I do ? 

The Misses Baxton, Lee, and de Sage 
were almost demolishing the front stair- 
case with their heavy trunks, and part of 
the balustrade had already fallen. Mrs. 
Brown was wild. 

Miss Fremont was calmly sleeping, ow- 
87 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


ing to her deafness, much envied now by 
myself, and was not aware of her impend- 
ing death, until she was awakened by the 
crash of her fallen door, and she saw Maria, 
hatchet in hand, and discovered the immi- 
nent danger. In the meantime, I had 
dressed carefully, and was proceeding down 
the backstairs for the jail, with money 
enough in my pocket-book to bail out the 
pair, though I meant, and resolved to keep 
to my purpose, that only one I should bail, 
and that was the wicked Jack.” He had 
not been arrested, as I discovered happily, 
on inquiring the whereabouts of the above- 
mentioned place — only lectured.” That 
I knew, to my sorrow. Jack could stand any 
amount of without any inconvenience or 
annoyance, and I was much relieved at 
finding things so much better than repre- 
sented. 

There had been a fire, true enough, — a 
few minutes’ blaze in the woodshed, 
where Jack had heedlessly dropped a 
match in his search for a hatchet, — and 
88 


THE GLORIOUS FOURTH. 


in his haste to smother ^Hhe darn little 
flame/’ as he called it, he upset an oil- 
can over it, which made matters worse. 
Nevertheless, he had no intentions of wak- 
ing up the house. He called to Colonel 
Lyons to come quick and help him, and 
the Colonel, with but little presence of 
mind and less sense, arrived quickly, 
locked Jack securely in the woodshed, 
and escaped down the road. Jack hav- 
ing spent many hours investigating the 
old shed, knew it perfectly, and crept out 
through a hole in the back. In the mean- 
time, Maria had smelt the smoke, seen 
the strange light in the woodshed, which 
adjoined the house, and roused every one 
with her cry of fire. It was now six 
o’clock. 

Jack and the Colonel had not been heard 
from for hours. Misses Baxton, Lee, and 
de Sage were now dressed, and discussing 
the night on the front porch, each seated 
on her respective trunk. Michael, who 
had so nobly saved the house by arresting 


A TWENTIETH CENTUE.Y BOY. 


the progress of the flames, was in the front 
hall with Mrs. Brown figuring out how 
much new stairs were to cost her. 

It ain’t nothin’, Mis’ Brown, ter buildin’ 
a new house,” said the hero, Michael, in a 
deep whisper to his sorrowing employer. 

Ef it ’adn’t been for my quick animation 
an’ lively temperament, the house would 
’ave gone in ten minutes. Thar wouldn’t 
’ave been as much as a board to tell the 
tale,” he exclaimed, letting his hand down 
heavily on his knee. Not even a shavin’ 
to tell the tale,” he said again. 

‘‘ They could have told it satisfactorily,” 
said Mrs. Brown, referring to her boarders 
on the piazza. 

I reckon they could,” he said. And at 
that moment Maria came forth with her 
deafening bell, and breakfast was thus 
unceremoniously announced. 


90 


CHAPTER XIII. 


MIDNIGHT ON THE FOUKTH. 

“We kissed him good-night on his powder-specked 
face, 

We laid his bruised hands softly down in their 
place. 

And he murmured as sleep closed his one open eye, 
wish every day was the Fourth of July.’’^ 

H unger drove the Colonel and little 
Jack home shortly after the usual 
breakfast hour. They both crept up the 
backstairs for fear of being detected and 
inspected, and retired as soon as possible to 
their respective rooms. 

The Colonel was almost dead with 
fatigue, and not daring to face his 
“friends,” who were still in the dining 
room, he ordered his breakfast to be sent 
to his room, on the plea of illness. Being 
a good-paying boarder, his request was not 
refused, but most amply carried out, and 
91 


L TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


up, by the haughty Maria, who left the 
tray outside his door, rapped, and hurried 
away. 

Jack was not so well provided for. Be- 
ing a boy, and not daring to express a 
wish, much less ask for anything, he had 
to put up with some green apples that he 
had left to ripen in his room. Tired and 
disgusted with his humble fare, he fell 
asleep. 

Four long hours he slept. It was well 
past eleven when he awoke. The boys in 
the neighbourhood, and from the village, 
had been celebrating for many hours, and 
he had slept through it all. Now he was 
thoroughly rested. He got up, rubbed his 
eyes, and without so much as glancing at 
me, he took a large box of fire-crackers 
from under the bed, and went downstairs 
with them. Presently he returned for more. 

Would you like me to call the Colonel, 
Jack?” I asked, as he came into my room 
and emptied my match case. I am quite 
sure he is rested now, if you want him.” 

92 


MIDNIGHT ON THE FOURTH. 


Jack turned. he bothers me any 

more, I’ll shoot him down,” he said, and 
his look was full of determination. 

Until one o’clock, when dinner was 
served. Jack was very quiet. He dis- 
turbed no one, and no one apparently dis- 
turbed him. He took pains, however, to 
fire off his crackers and torpedoes at the 
back of the house so as not to awaken his 
friend, the Colonel, who he feared might 
rejoin him. Once in a while, a little 
noise in the yard, was heard a siss of 
a fire-cracker or the boom of a little toy 
cannon, but it called for very little notice. 

At dinner-time. Jack left them, came in, 
and obediently washed his face and dirty 
hands, — which was a very rare thing for 
him to do, — put on a clean white shirt, his 
best gray trousers, and honoured America’s 
freedom by a brand new tie. 

When he appeared at dinner, grinning 
and triumphant, no one looked at him. He 
made up a comical face at Miss Baxton, and 
sat down. The Colonel appeared later in a 
93 


A TAVENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


white duck suit and blue linen tie. Smiling, 
he glanced about him. As no one looked 
up or noticed him in the least, he sat down, 
and ordered his dinner. He glanced over 
at Jack two or three times, but the boy 
refused to look that way, and kept his bright 
eyes on the table. Once in a while. Jack 
would smile to himself, and twice he gig- 
gled. This much amused the Colonel, who 
scarcely took his eyes off the boy when he 
was anywhere in sight. What cared Jack, 
how angry people were with him ? It dis- 
turbed the Colonel’s dinner, but not his. He 
ate with a relish, ordered ice-cream twice, 
— which was an extra that day, — filled his 
pockets with nuts and raisins, and saun- 
tered out of the room. 

The Colonel, who hadn’t finished his din- 
ner, left it to follow him, a look of perfect 
love and admiration shining in his dark 
gray eyes. 

Jack changed his suit immediately after 
dinner, and again donned the rags of a 
pauper. Colonel Lyons preferred to offer 

94 


MIDNIGHT ON THE FOUETH. 


up his suit rather than take time to change 
it, and perhaps lose Jack ; and he did offer it 
up in the course of the afternoon, and why 
he wasn’t offered up with it, Miss Baxton 
numbers with the many mysteries of earth. 
Although somewhat burnt about his hands 
and feet, from falling on a large bunch of 
lighted fire-crackers, — his escape from 
death, due entirely to the remarkable vigour 
and vitality of the Lyons branch of the 
family, — he returned, burnt and suffering 
as he was. As Jack said : — 

I thouglit lie was a ^ goner/ 

But he came back. 

He couldn’t stay no longer 
Away from Jack.” 

Yes, the Colonel returned, his hands a lit- 
tle bandaged, but willing to work. Willing 
to untie all the hard knots, and to hold the 
cannon while it went off, so that it wouldn’t 
break. And he was there, back at his post 
again, willing to use his eyes to save little 
Jack’s, when the cannon failed, as it some- 
times did, or the fire-crackers didn’t ignite 
95 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


quick enough to please Jack. And he 
wasn’t thanked or appreciated, yet he was 
willing to do anything, just to be with the 
boy. 

As the afternoon wore on, and the sport 
lagged. Colonel Lyons hired a carriage, and 
took Jack out driving. There were a great 
many pleasant drives through that part of 
the country, and Jack enjoyed it all thor- 
oughly : the drive, the large plates of ice- 
cream to which he was treated twice on 
the way, the generous slices of chocolate 
cake served with it, and the handsome boxes 
of candy bought to suit the large eyes of a 
very small boy. Four glasses of cream soda 
at four different stores were among the lib- 
eralities served at the expense of the Colo- 
nel’s too generous pocket-book. But what 
cared he ? He bought him a handsome 
fishing-line, which was a novelty in its 
make, and a very attractive one. 

Jack returned laden with treasures and 
but little appetite for supper. As Miss 
Fremont was ill from the previous night’s 
96 


MIDNIGHT ON THE FOUKTH. 


horrible excitement, Jack took her place at 
the Colonel’s table, which much delighted 
his host. 

After supper, several boys came up from 
the village to help Jack with his bountiful 
supply of fireworks, and he became so much 
displeased with their conduct, and with the 
way that they stole his things, that after 
having abused them, to no purpose what- 
ever, he drove them off with a hatchet, and 
they returned no more. 

The evening passed ofi pleasantly. Jack 
had an ample supply of Roman candles, and 
pinwheels, which the Colonel set off satis- 
factorily, and to Jack’s great delight. 
Coloured lights were also burned and added 
brilliancy to the scene. 

At ten o’clock Colonel Lyons set off the 
chief attraction of the evening, ^^Christo- 
pher Columbus ” showing how he discovered 
America, a set piece that the Colonel had 
ordered at considerable expense for the 
occasion. 

It was a gorgeous success, but before the 
H 97 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


applause had died away Jack sprang from 
his seat with a cry for help. A spark had 
ignited the fire-crackers tucked in his 
blouse, and he was soon enveloped in 
flames. The crackers shot in every direc- 
tion, “siss, boom, siss, bang,” and Jack 
was terribly burnt about his face and chest 
before any one could get to him. When it 
was all out, and a little black chest lay 
exposed, and a charred old shirt clung to 
his trousers, the Colonel took him upstairs 
and laid him on the bed. He didn’t say 
anything, but he looked very solemn. 

The physician arrived shortly after this, 
for Michael had gone immediately for one, 
and the Colonel’s kind eyes never looked 
brighter than they did when the physician 
assured us that Jack would be all right in 
a day or two.” 

The Colonel bent over the boy, and looked 
at him long and affectionately. He hadn’t 
left him a moment since the doctor went, 
and it was now twelve. 

As the clock struck the hour. Jack opened 
98 


MIDNIGHT ON THE EOURTH. 


his eyes, and laughed at seeing his devoted 
friend still with him. 

The Fourth's gone now, Jack, dear," he 
said, almost sadly. It's twelve o'clock. 
You and I celebrated it, didn't we?" 

Jack grinned. ^^You bet we did," said 
he, as he turned over, ‘^and I wish to- 
morrow was another Fourth," and the 
Colonel smiled good-night. 

He will grow all together again, never fear, 

And be ready to celebrate freedom next year. 

Meanwhile all his friends are most thankful there 
lies 

A crackerless twelvemonth ’twixt Fourth of , 
Julys.’’ 


•LofC. 


99 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A VAIN ALARM. 

XF Miss Baxton would only let me alone, 
I’d be all right, but she rattles me so 
I’m about dead,” and Jack looked it. He 
threw himself on the bed, kicked the pil- 
lows off on the floor, soiled the counterpane 
with his horribly dirty boots, and then got 
up again. ^^Darn the old thing!” he said, 
how I hate her ! Down there before all 
the fellers, testing the water with a ther- 
mometer 1 Darn her, darn her 1 ” 

Jack,” I cried, stop.” 

‘^No, I won’t, not for you, or anybody 
like you. Darn the old thing!” he cried- 
again. And saying this, he gave my small 
and only table a push which sent the ac- 
cumulation of everything to everywhere. 

^^Now, Jack,” I said, we’ll have no more 
of this. If you suppose for the small space 
100 


A VAIN ALARM. 


of half a second that I’m going to be 
troubled this way, you are wofully mis- 
taken. Get down and pick up those 
things.” I pointed to them with ven- 
geance in my look. 

Jack obeyed slowly. He got down, 
sorted out the many magazines and news- 
papers, and then proceeded to find the 
innumerables from my work-basket. This 
last disgusted Jack, but quieted his anger 
for the time being. 

^^Do you know,” he said, stopping his 
work for a moment, ^^what Miss Baxton 
did?” 

No,” I replied, in a tone of indifference ; 
haven’t the slightest idea. I know what 
you did, though.” 

Well,” said he, ‘^I’ll tell you what she 
did. You know Billy Mortimer and I went 
down to the river swimming, don’t you ? ” 

I didn’t know who the tramp was you 
were with,” I said, suppressing a smile. 

Tramp ? ” murmured Jack, no more a 
tramp than you are. Well, anyway, when 
101 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


we got most down there, I saw that old 
Baxton fiend following with the thermom- 
eter tied up in a paper ; and said I to Bill, 
^ Let’s run,’ and we just flew. You just 
ought to have seen her run after us. Any- 
way, she didn’t get there until we’d been 
in some time, and then she began testing 
the water, and hollering to me to come 
out. She said it was freezing, and all that, 
and Bill, rather than have a fight with her, 
came out ; so I came home ; but I made up 
my mind that if she ever tries that old 
game on me again, she’s going down to the 
bottom of the sea.” 

I made him no reply, and he resumed his 
work. 

He finished picking up the things in a 
few minutes, and ate the marshmallows 
which I had forgotten were left in my work- 
basket. Then he got up, brushed ofi his 
clothes, pulled up his stockings, and wiped 
his dusty boots with a clean handkerchief. 

Now after lunch,” said he, with the man- 
ner of a gentleman, and the appearance of 
102 


A VAIN ALARM. 


a nobody — after lunch Tm going swim- 
ming, and I want to tell you that if you 
like that Miss Baxton, I advise you to keep 
her well occupied at home this afternoon, 
for I haven’t got any more time to fool with 
her.” 

Oh, J ack, how ungrammatical you are ; 
one would never suppose you had seen the 
inside of a school, or the outside either, for 
that matter.” 

^^I’m not talking about grammar,” he 
said ; “ I’m explaining the uses of physical 
economy, something new I’ve discovered ; 
and she won’t be economical of herself, 
she’ll be throwing herself away, if she fol- 
lows on this afternoon. That’s all I’ve got 
to say,” and he went out, and closed the 
door. 

Miss Baxton did not follow him that after- 
noon. She was too much prostrated to move 
from her bed. She lay there ill ; ill from 
the effects of Jack’s abuse, and from the 
excitement. She was tired of her very life ; 
death was what she was longing for when 
103 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


I went to her. Until then, I was unaware 
of her illness. I went to her with a load 
upon my heart. It was long past supper- 
time, and Jack had not been seen. He had 
gone down to that deep river, to swim alone. 
Billy Mortimer had gone to the village with 
his father, and had not seen him. I was 
afraid Jack had been drowned. My last 
words to him had been cross ones. Oh, to 
see him again would be my salvation ; the 
commencement of a new life ! I would be 
kinder to every one. Perhaps it was too 
late, too late, if he was dead. 

Miss Baxton was very sorry for me, and 
offered to help me find him. She dressed 
quickly, and we were soon off ; she was a 
great help to me, as she knew the way 
perfectly. 

Darkness was upon us. Night was creep- 
ing rapidly over the high hills of that coun- 
try, and I fancied that day was breaking 
where little Jack had gone. I was desper- 
ate. It was a very long road, dark and 
lonely. Miss Baxton trudged on, like the 
104 


A VAIN ALARM. 


saint she was ; I behind, feeling too wicked 
to even approach, much less to touch the 
snowy hem of her well-raised gown. It 
was a very dusty road. We passed but two 
houses on the way. One a tollhouse by the 
bridge ; the other, an uninhabited farm- 
house. There had been no boys passing 
through the toll-gate that afternoon, so the 
keeper told us, unless they went through 
on a wagon — that he couldn’t say. He 
couldn’t recall any boys on foot ; but then, 
as he said, his memory was not what it used 
to be, and we left him droning out to us the 
whole story of his life. 

It was a long way to the river. How 
Miss Baxton could do it twice in one day 
was a mystery to me ; but I didn’t ask her, 
I didn’t care for her to explain. My mind 
was confused enough already. On, on we 
went, then on the railroad track. I could 
feel the cold steel of the rails as I walked 
along, for I had left the sole of one shoe 
behind me. Miss Baxton turned to the 
right, and then to the left, right through a 
105 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


very dangerous-looking thicket of trees, and 
then — the river. No Jack. Not a sound 
broke the silence, save a lone cricket, up in 
some lone tree by the river-bank. Where 
was Jack ? I stooped down, and touched 
the water ; it was cold, oh, so cold. Could 
little Jack’s body be under that cold stream ? 

Miss Baxton touched me. Look,” said 
she, there is a tramp lying in that thicket. 
Hadn’t we better run ? ” 

No,” I replied, he is coming over this 
way. I’ll ask him if he has seen anything 
of Jack.” 

Miss Baxton was very much unnerved by 
this proceeding, and stepped aside as he 
approached us. 

^^Have you seen anything of a boy, a 
little boy?” I ventured. 

The man took us both in from head to 
foot. What his impressions were, I could 
not tell. He shook his head slowly in the 
negative. ain’t seen none,” he said. 

What kind a’ lookin’ boy is he, tall an’ 
dark?” 


106 


A VAIN ALAEM. 


Oh, no, rather short. He is a little boy 
twelve years old.” 

What’s his name ? ” he asked. I found 
a pocket ’ankercher round here when I cum 
this afternoon. Does his name begin with 
the figur ^ J ’ ? ” 

‘^With the letter ^ J,’” I cried; do let 
me see it. Oh, please let me see it.” 

Now don’t get flustered, lady; you know 
the old say in’ that ^ flndin’s is keepin’s,’ ” 
he said slowly, as he drew out a little soiled 
handkerchief with a tiny bunch of keys tied 
to one corner. 

“ You can have the keys,” he explained, 
trying to separate the handkerchief from 
other articles in his dirty pocket; ^‘but 
findin’s is keepin’s,” he said again. 

Oh, you are welcome to it, if you will 
only let me see it,” I cried. Will you sell 
it to me for a dollar ? Here.” 

The man smiled inwardly, took the 
money, and released the prize. I took it 
gratefully, probably the last thing that Jack 
ever had. It was now mine. 

107 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


The man looked really sorry for me. He 
looked at the dark stream in front of us, 
and then at me. Lady/’ he said, you’d 
better go home. If the boy’s been drowned, 
you’ll find the body in the morning; the 
tide ain’t very fast up this way. The 
body’s sure got stuck somewhere, I reckon, 
and I kin bet it won’t budge till morning.” 
Then his harsh voice softened a trifle. 
^^Here, lady, take back your money, that 
rag weren’t worth nothin’ to me.” 

I shook my head. ‘‘Keep it,” I said. 
“ Poor little Jack lying dead in this miser- 
able dark place,” I thought; “poor, dear, 
little Jack.” 

I turned. There was a wagon coming up 
the road in the direction of the bridge. Per- 
haps we could get a ride home; it would be so 
much to us if we could. Miss Baxton hailed 
the man, who promised to take us as far as 
“ Apple Grove,” a short distance from the 
house. This was a great help to us, a great 
saving of our time ; for I knew that some- 
thing must be done before it grew much 
108 


A VAIN ALARM. 


later. All the way home I cried bitterly, 
the little handkerchief pressed to my fe- 
vered brow. It had been little Jack’s, the 
only brother I had, asleep in the safe arms 
of Him who loveth children. I was almost 
delirious when we reached Apple Grove. 

The man helped us out, and was still 
standing looking after us when we turned 
from his sight. Before us lay the house 
where Jack’s little footsteps would never re- 
sound any more. He would never trouble 
any one again ; never, never. 

And why? some one said. There was 
Jack, safe and sound. He and Billy Morti- 
mer were playing ‘^leap-frog” in front of 
the house. Swimming f NoT Billy had 
to go to the village, and he didn’t want to 
go alone. He’d been down to Finely, a 
neighbouring town, to see the gypsies. 

Swimming f iVb.’ ' 


109 


CHAPTER XV. 


CONSTABLE walker’s VISIT. 

I T was early morn. Its rosy fingers had 
scarcely opened the gates of day. I 
fancied I heard Michael bringing in the 
milk. He was an early riser. It was un- 
doubtedly he. The barn-door had slammed 
and banged an unusual number of times on 
this particular morning, but it was not 
until I heard the sound of strange and 
other voices, that my attention was called 
to the window. Jack was asleep ; so had I 
been, the previous moment. It didn’t look 
without as if the chickens were awake, but 
I suppose they were, — bright, early risers 
they. A rooster crowed in the barn-yard 
as I pulled up the shade and unfastened the 
window. No, I was not mistaken. It was 
Michael, and with him, a man. Now a 
man is not such an uncommon thing to see 
110 


CONSTABLE WALKER’S VISIT. 


up there, as one would have supposed, had 
they seen me hanging almost entirely out 
of the window. But that man was talking 
about Jack. First in undertones, then 
slightly audible ; louder, and now, much 
above the common tone of man. He was 
very much excited. I was worried. What 
could Jack possibly have been doing now ? 
I listened attentively. 

Michael, who was not to be abashed, out- 
done, or put down by any one, — man, 
woman, child, or beast (with the slight ex- 
ception of Maria), — held his own surpris- 
ingly. There is a boy here, but that ain’t 
the one you want,” he said. The one here is 
only a little feller — a ^ kid,’ as they call them. 
You’re looking fer some big strapper.” 

I don’t know how large he is,” ex- 
plained the man, feeling for something in 
an inside pocket; ^^all I know is this: I 
am here with a warrant for the arrest of 
John Elliott, caught smashing windows of 
a new house down on Perkins’s Road. My 
orders are to arrest him.” 

Ill 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


I trembled. Michael stood for a moment 
as if debating in his mind what the man 
had told him. Caught smashin’ winders, 
yer tell me V he said, stroking his thin 
whiskers dubiously. 

Yes,” was the man’s reply, “ caught 
doing so.” 

Why didn’t yer hold ’im, then ? ” said 
he. Michael chuckled inwardly. I could 
see, in the gray dawn, the twinkle in his 
eyes. ‘^Yes, why didn’t yer hold ’im, 
then?” 

The man was for the moment baffled. 

I am here, sir, I beg to inform you, to 
arrest the boy. I ask you a simple ques- 
tion, — Does a John Elliott live in this 
house ?” 

‘^And I answer you respectfully, sir,” 
said Michael, bowing, No.” 

The man turned. ^^What is that boy’s 
name you said did live here?” 

Jack,” came the answer. 

Hasn’t he any surname ? ” 

I don’t know what that be,” said he. 

112 


CONSTABLE WALKER'S VISIT. 

his last name, then?” said the 
man. haven’t got any more time to 
waste ’round these premises.” 

^^No, like me, sir, you’ve probably got 
something else to do. Good-mornin’ to 
yer, sir.” 

Michael touched the brim of his old hat, 
and sauntered off. 

The man followed him. ^^Does a boy 
named Elliott live here. Jack, or John, or 
anything ? ” 

Michael again set down the milk-pail. 
^^Yes,” was his reply; ‘^not John, but 
Jack.” 

Where is the boy now ? ” 

« Why, man alive, I ain’t his father ! ” 
expostulated the ignorant Irishman. He’s 
no relation o’ mine. How, in the name of 
good Saint Patrick, should I know where 
he is ? I reckon asleep in his cradle, sir.” 

Michael went into the barn, and the man 
came toward the house. In a few moments 
there came a knock at my door. A gen- 
tleman to see you, miss,” said Mary. 

113 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Ask him up.’’ 

I was now dressed, and somewhat pre- 
pared for him. He was a large, well-built 
man of some sixty odd years, with a cold, 
stern look, both in his manner and in his 
eyes. He took off his hat at seeing me, 
and adjusted his glasses. I am Constable 
Walker, ma’am ; I have here the warrant 
for the arrest of young Elliott. Have you 
the boy ? ” he asked. 

He is asleep,” was my reply. ^^He is 
only a little fellow. What has he been 
doing ? ” 

Smashing windows,” said the man; 
every window, except three, in a new 
house down on Perkins’s Road.” 

Ah, you are mistaken, sir ; it is not my 
brother,” I explained sweetly. He is far 
too little for that. Come, I will show you 
him.” 

Jack always looks innocent and small in 
his bed ; and as I opened the door, the man’s 
stern expression changed almost instantly 
to one of surprise. That baby ! ” he said 
114 


CONSTABLE WALKER’S VISIT. 


disgustedly, pointing to the little sleeping 
face buried deep in a large ruffled pillow. 
One small hand rested on the counterpane, 
the other was above his head. He was 
breathing heavily. 

That is all the boy we have,” I ex- 
plained; ^^he is small.” Then, catching 
sight of a large boot by the side of the 
bed, I gave it a good kick under. ^^He 
doesn’t look as if he had' been out all 
night smashing windows, does he?” I 
asked sweetly. 

No,” came the man’s gruff reply ; he 
ain’t eight, is he ? ” 

Slightly over that,” I nodded. Please 
don’t awaken him.” 

No, I won’t,” said the man. I’m 
looking for a &oy, a boy that wears trou- 
sers, and can swear. My business ain’t to 
arrest babies. Sorry to have troubled you, 
ma’am,” he apologized, as he opened the 
door. Good-morning.” 

Good-morning,” I returned happily. 

Jack did not wake up until the usual 
115 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


hour of eight, and then it was hardly six. 
When he did awake I attacked him; yea, 
savagely accused him of what he had done, 
and told him, moreover, what was to be 
done to him. His short hair stood up 
from the very roots, as straight as the 
quills of a porcupine with a dog after him. 
He shook ; shook so that the bedstead on 
which he sat shook. His breathing was 
irregular. Was he to be arrested, and did 
he have to go to jail really, or was I 
joking ? 

Joking? Not I. I was in dead, sober 
earnest. Why did he break those win- 
dows?'^ was the first question I put to 
his half-awakened, half-confused mind. 

What did he break them for ? ” I was 
anxious to know. The house was sur- 
rounded on all sides by a squad of police- 
men of a stern type. They were waiting 
for him, I told him ; yet, in reality, Michael 
was the only man in sight. 

Jack commenced to cry. He was too 
much of a man to throw the blame on 
116 


CONSTABLE WALKER’S VISIT. 


some one else. He confessed to it, and 
looked as if he deeply regretted it, but 
it was entirely too late now, as I told 
him every few minutes. ^^Here were his 
clothes, he must get up now and dress.” 
As he rose I noticed, as I had not before, 
that his face was ashen white, and he 
was trembling like a paralytic. It was 
then that I released and forgave him. 


117 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE dominie’s DONATION PARTY. 

SUPPOSE you’re going?” said Miss 
Baxton to me, one evening after tea. 

Jack, who was generally quicker to hear 
than myself, answered for both. ^^Yes, 
indeed, we’re going,” said he, ^^just as 
sure as the sun’s going to rise to-morrow.” 

Where?” was my puzzled exclamation. 

To the Dominie’s donation party,” Miss 
Baxton replied with severity, almost with 
indignation. Haven’t you heard about 
it?” 

I confessed awkwardly that I had not, 
and Miss Baxton, with folded hands, seated 
herself in astonishment before me. 

It was some moments before she spoke, 
and then with a look of abject despair and 
desperation. You’ve been to donation 

parties, I suppose ? ” 


118 


THE DOMINIE’S DONATION PARTY. 


No, I must confess that I never have. 
I have heard about them, and what they 
are like,” I replied. 

But Jack interrupted me. ^^What are 
they. Miss Baxton?” he inquired. ‘‘I 
never have heard of one.” 

They are something like a party, 
dear,” she replied, anxious and willing to 
instruct the inquiring mind. ^‘Everybody 
takes something, anything is acceptable.” 

^^Do people eat what they bring?” asked 
the inquisitive. Isn’t it like a big picnic ? ” 
Oh, no ; the Dominie provides a splendid 
table,” was her reply. It is a very enjoy- 
able affair, as well as amusing.” 

I’m going,” said Jack. 

‘^No, indeed, you are not,” came my 
deliberate protest. Not one step are 
you going to take m that direction.” 

^^If I take something, I’m entitled to 
go, ain’t I, Miss Baxton?” 

It is the rule, I believe, and charity is 
never discouraged ” — that, with a severe 
glance at me. 


119 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


There now, I’m going sure pop. I 
know what I’ll take, something that’ll 
beat everything else there.” 

Oh, Miss Baxton, that you, of all peo- 
ple, should have encouraged Jack in such 
badness! He will surely disgrace us,” I 
protested. 

Jack was sure that he had no such inten- 
tions, and fell to the task of counting his 
money. 

^^Are you going?” said Miss Baxton 
to me. 

^‘I suppose I must, if Jack is going,” 
I said, with feeling ; not that I have the 
least wish to.” 

^‘What will you take?” was her next 
question. 

Money, I fancy, is the most acceptable. 
I’ll take that.” 

“ That is what I always take. It is, as 
you say, most acceptable ; and the Dominie 
is such an excellent man, so worthy of 
all he receives ; and his wife — she is per- 
fection.” 


120 


THE DOMINIE’S DONATION PAETY. 


Miss Baxton seemed to show unusual 
enthusiasm on the subject, and Jack went 
on smiling and counting his money. It’s 
going to be something nice,” he thought to 
himself, but he didn’t say what. 

The day of the Dominie’s donation party 
was as beautiful a day as summer ever gave 
to the children of earth. It was bright, 
clear, cool, and altogether charming. The 
party was to be in the afternoon, from four 
to ten or eleven, as long as the guests cared 
to remain. The door of the Dominie’s house 
was never closed any part of donation day 
(so Michael confided), and as he hadn’t had 
one for some years past it was sure to be 
open from sunrise to sunset. 

Miss Baxton and I left the house about 
five. We reached the Dominie’s house 
shortly afterwards, I with faint heart, for 
I knew not when Jack cometh. I hadn’t 
seen him for some hours, not since lunch. 
It might be that he had forgotten about 
the donation party, though I hardly be- 
lieved such good fortune awaited me. 

121 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Jack never failed to remember things. 
Once promise him anything, and he never 
forgot it until it was his. His memory was 
excellent, extraordinary, to say the least. 
He would not forget, and had not for- 
gotten. 

As we went in, Mrs. Thrums, the Dom- 
inie’s estimable wife, met us, spoke briefly 
of the weather, murmured something about 
“ kind friends’ donations,” fidgeted for 
what to say next, then awkwardly asked us 
if we wouldn’t step in and set awhile.” 

Miss Baxton thanked her; and as we 
turned, Mrs. Thrums motioned to a small 
son, who rushed forward with a box marked 

Money,” and we deposited therein our 
contribution, before we were allowed to go 
farther. As I have already said, I had 
never been to a donation party before, and 
whether I shall ever go again, is doubtful, 
giving, of course, full consideration and 
appreciation to the kind hospitality of dear 
Mrs. Thrums. 

The Dominie came forward at this mo- 
122 


THE DOMINIE^S DONATION PARTY. 


ment, said ignorantly that the biggest 
crowd came at tea time and ate more than 
they brought/’ and then something about 
the large supply of cheap matches that 
wouldn’t burn ” and left us only to embrace, 
I might say, ‘^one o’ the folks from the 
village.” 

When I had time, I glanced about for 
Jack. No one had spoken of a strange 
small boy’s arrival, with a still stranger 
gift, so I was completely satisfied. Mrs. 
Thrums’s own children I mistook as children 
from an orphan asylum, and was remark- 
ing to some one how kind it was to enter- 
tain those precious little waifs for a day, 
when the Dominie himself corrected me, 
and I, greatly embarrassed, turned to caress 
one as a source of relief to my mortified 
feelings. 

There were six tables loaded down with 
everything. Matches, as the Dominie had 
truthfully said, were most prominent. They 
were the kind, I imagined, that, from old 
age and make, were non-explosive. A few 
123 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


loaves of bread looked tempting, which, 
upon remarking to Mrs. Thrums, I dis- 
covered were her own make. There were 
many, many other loaves waiting a signal 
to arise, and cake likewise, if one may 
judge from appearances. There was fruit, 
almost by the wagon-load. It was so 
plentiful this season,” the Dominie said. A 
few pies figured, two bread puddings, both 
of which looked as if they had been for- 
gotten until the last moment, and were put 
into the oven to bake while their maker 
adjusted her bonnet. One custard pudding 
came unbaked, a card with it explaining 
that, Ma had one of her sick spells, and 
couldn’t finish it.” There were several 
boxes of cancelled stamps, If Mrs. Thrums 
decided to make plates for the fair down to 
the church.” There was some butter, a 
few dozen eggs, that looked very much as 
if they had been laid during the war, and 
had just been discovered. A little sugar, 
^^not enough for all the best tea that the 
folks would drink up,” Mrs. Thrums confided 



Ills PRESENT PEAT ALL THE REST 









THE DOMINIE’S DONATION PAETY. 


to a neighbour. There were onions by the 
basketful. The Dominie’s dislike for them 
seemed to be known and appreciated. A 
few withered cabbages and some dried prunes 
were all I had seen to remember, when the 
door opened and the presence and appearance 
of my small bad brother leading a live pig by 
a ribbon brought forgotten memories of him 
much to view. He had come. Forgotten 
it? No, indeed. Welcomed and kissed by 
both the Dominie and his wife who frankly 
confessed, in their pleasure, that his pres- 
ent beat all the rest. Jack was overjoyed. 
The pig was a young one, sweet and tender. 
It was certainly very acceptable. It 
squealed a little, which was like music to 
its delighted and proud owners. 

Jack’s present had pleased. ^^Such a 
sturdy, beautiful boy,” the Dominie said, and 
his wife echoed it. 

As grand looking as a young prince,” 
they cried enthusiastically. Worthy to be 
a king, his manner was so royal-like.” 
Jack grinned from ear to ear. 

125 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


As people began to grow hungry, Mrs. 
Thrums prophesied a storm coming, and 
many left who had not brought umbrellas. 
Jack was little pleased with the donation 
party, and I was much displeased when, 
upon my return home, a bill awaited me, 
and I found that sweet, ^Hoo dear ’’little 
■pig had been charged. 


126 


CHAPTER XVII. 


MBS. Leonard’s baby. 

I T was early morning, just after break- 
fast, and shortly after the donation 
party. We were all sitting out on the 
long piazza. Colonel Lyons at one end of 
it, buried almost entirely in the famous 
Morning Trumpet, Miss Baxton, Jack, and 
I at the other end, while the Misses Lee 
and Fremont were discussing the probabili- 
ties and possibilities of the great and un- 
ending future in two arm-chairs near us. 
Jack was whittling. The morning was a 
quiet one, and nothing, save an occasional 
rustle of the Colonel’s much-read paper, 
broke the silence. As Miss Baxton often 
said, when Jack was quiet, the world was ; 
and it was true. 

At last Colonel Lyons spoke. I sup- 
pose you’ve read about poor Mrs. Leonard ?” 
127 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


he said, laying down his paper, and glancing 
at each of us through his gold-rimmed eye- 
glasses. 

I have,” was Miss Baxton’s firm, deci- 
sive reply. I had not, so I was silent, and 
the Misses Lee and Fremont were too much 
occupied in their conversation to spare time 
for interruption. 

^^Well,” said the Colonel, rising with 
paper in hand and coming toward us, drag- 
ging his chair behind him (much to the 
discomfort of the two ladies above men- 
tioned) I think it’s a very sad thing. 
I’ve known of this Mrs. Leonard ever since 
I came here summers, and I’ve always 
thought her a good, industrious woman. 
It seems her husband absconded some 
months ago with a great deal of money 
belonging to the people about here, and 
left her destitute with a baby a few weeks 
old to provide for. Yesterday she was run 
over by the Express, and was taken to the 
hospital down in the city. Now, isn’t that 
a pitiful case ? ” 


128 


MRS. LEONAED’S BABY. 


Jack, who until then had been quiet, 
moved in his chair, and looked inquiringly 
at each of us. ^^We might raise some 
money for her,” he said, to help her when 
she gets out of the hospital. Here’s fifty 
cents to start a fund; it’s all I’ve got. Chip 
in, all of you.” 

The Colonel moved for him to be seated. 

She can’t live through the night, dear,” 
he said. Money wouldn’t be of any use 
to her now.” 

But the baby — it would help that,” 
exclaimed the small boy. That isn’t 
killed too, is it?” he asked sympatheti- 
cally. 

Oh, no,” the Colonel replied. Oh, no ; 
but, poor little waif, I don’t suppose that 
wants any money. It’s only six months 
old.” 

^^Was it born under such lucky stars 
that it will live in its penniless state in 
luxury upon the world ? ” inquired Miss 
Baxton of the Colonel. 

I don’t know what they’re going to do 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


with it,” he said ; the paper doesn’t say. 
None of the people round here will have 
anything to do with it, because its father 
was such a scamp.” 

The sins of the fathers shall be visited 
upon the children,” said Miss Baxton. 

There’s nothing about that Leonard fam- 
ily that I don’t know. I don’t think any 
more of her than of him, and less of the 
baby. They’re a miserable lot.” 

What’s the matter with the woman ? ” 
inquired Jack. 

The matter ? Why, don’t you suppose 
that she helped her husband cheat those 
people — take the last crust from the 
orphan’s mouth, and empty the widow’s 
purse ? Do you imagine that he did it 
alone ? ” 

Perhaps not,” interrupted the Colonel ; 
‘^only I can’t see, if she assisted him so 
entirely, why she didn’t have some of the 
money. I believe she was as innocent as 
I am, and surely I was no confederate of 
his.” 


130 


MES. LEONAED’S BABY. 


Miss Baxton remained firm. Jack was 
uncertain as to the exact whereabouts of 
the baby. He was interested in that. He 
imagined foolishly that he’d like to go and 
see it^ but owing to the smashed windows 
still visible down on Perkins’s Koad, he feared 
to carry out his choicest wish. He went 
fishing in the afternoon — the baby was 
apparently forgotten. The woman died, 
the husband remained in oblivion, and the 
tale was done. There was nothing new in 
the evening paper, save that strangers had 
cared for the child, and that was all. 

It was past tea time when Jack came. 
The night was dark, and only a large straw 
basket could be discerned, moving, as it 
appeared to be, by itself, toward the house. 
It was Jack who carried it, and I, glad he 
had come, closed the shutters and waited 
for him in the dining room. The fish were 
not brought in to be exhibited, as I had 
expected, and knew to be the custom. 

Perhaps he had been unfortunate. He 
went quietly up the backstairs, and some 
131 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


time elapsed before he came down. He 
complained of a bad headache, and asked 
to be permitted to eat his supper in his 
room if he carried it up himself. The light 
hurt his eyes, and there was a queer 
smell ’’ down there he didn’t like (he 
thought it was a dead mouse). However, 
the dining room failed to please, and on no 
conditions would he eat his supper there. 
Miss Baxton asked him if he had caught 
many fish, and only an inarticulate murmur 
was the response. 

Upstairs he went ; in one hand crackers, 
and in the other, that generally despised 
beverage, milk. I was surprised, alarmed. 
Miss Baxton asked me if I thought any- 
thing was wrong?” and the Colonel imag- 
ined that Jack had been struck in the head, 
and was unaware of his doings. Miss Fre- 
mont said she noticed he looked paler than 
death itself, and their alarm frightened me. 
I didn’t go up, however. I thought he was 
as safe as possible in his room, and I could 
do nothing by disturbing him; he had prob- 
132 


MES. LEONAED’S BABY. 


ably gone to bed. Jack, I knew well, soon 
told of his ailments; the ‘^fish mystery” 
was what I couldn’t understand. 

It was well past nine, perhaps ten, when 
I was aroused from reading by Miss Baxton, 
whose face bore a look of wholesome disap- 
proval. ^^Jack has been fishing, indeed,” 
said she, fishing trouble, anxiety, and 
expense. Come with me.” 

Without asking a question, I followed 
her. Up the backstairs we went; she, as 
usual, first; I following. At Jack’s door 
she stopped. Do you hear what is going 
on inside ? ” she asked. 

I listened, perhaps I was too confused, 
for my sense of hearing failed to exert 
itself. I shook my head, for I heard noth- 
ing. Then open the door,” said she, with 
the manner of a general. 

I turned the knob, and obeyed. Jack 
was seated on the side of the bed, appar- 
ently humming quietly to himself. There 
was nothing unusual about the room that I 
could see, but Miss Baxton urged me far- 
133 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


ther. In the middle of the floor were the 
dishes, which I didn’t discover until I had 
put my ^^big foot,” as Jack called it, into 
the cream pitcher, and aroused — the hahy. 

There it was. Jack had it in his place 
on the bed. Once Mrs. Leonard’s baby, 
but ours now. What could I say? He 
had got a woman (bright boy) to get it for 
him, which she had done, believing his 
assuring words, that we were to care for it. 
They wouldn’t take it back again. What 
was I to do ? I was desperate ; but as I was 
generally so, it was not an unusual feeling 
for me to have. 

I couldn’t imagine what I was to do with 
the Leonard waif. It was surely ours for 
the present, and it was my duty to find it 
a good home. As Miss Baxton said, Its 
future, its whole life, would probably be 
governed by my next step.” What a care 
Jack had brought into my life ! 

Two days passed away — two miserable 
days for the Brown household. What I 
was to do with the baby remained the deep 
134 


MKS. LEONAED’S BABY. 


question of the day. No one could tell me. 
Jack decided that we should keep it and 
love it as our own ; but I knew only too 
well that my mother had enough with one 
son and heir, without blessing her with a 
borrowed one. I carried the child back to 
the workhouse. But take it back ? They 
were indignant at my even suggesting such 
a thing. I consulted Mrs. Brown, but she 
gave no light upon my darkened mind, 
heart, and soul. She thought a baby was 
always a pleasure in a house, yet she didn’t 
care for the pleasure,” which was strange. 

Even kind-hearted Colonel Lyons, who 
adores children, so he says, was so afraid 
that I might offer the child to him, that he 
was taken ill, and it became necessary for 
him to keep his room. Miss Fremont 
declared children always died in their fam- 
ily ; yet it remained the fact that her mother 
had twelve living children, when she died 
the year before, at the good old age of 
ninety-six. 

It was early one morning when a strange 
135 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


looking woman, with her bonnet strings fly- 
ing, and a wild look in her eyes, rushed into 
the dining room. Where’s the child ? ” 
she cried ; my daughter’s only child ! ” 

She was apparently desperate with grief 
and excitement. She had come all the way 
from Grand Rapids, Michigan. She hadn’t 
seen her daughter for four years. She had 
married without her consent, and there had 
been no forgiveness. 

Miss Baxton was giving her a full account 
of her son-in-law, and his evil doings, when 
I arrived with the child. With a cry, the 
woman clasped it in her arms. It’s her 
over again,” she cried; ^^and there never 
was any forgiveness ! ” 

In the afternoon, she was seen down by 
an unmarked grave in the cemetery, and 
never again. Jack heard that she left that 
night for the West, and we were all per- 
fectly satisfied with whatever news he 
brought of her. Heaven had indeed blessed 
me. 


136 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


WEDDING BELLS. 

XT was a grave matter, something we were 
-X all unprepared for. Like a cyclone, it 
broke unheralded upon the Brown house- 
hold. No one offered an opinion, or sided 
either way. It was too serious even to 
think about. Miss Baxton and the Colonel 
had had a falling out.’’ Whether it was 
meant as it turned out, or it proved harsher 
than expected, was not known. The Colo- 
nel and Miss Baxton gave no explanations, 
and asked for no sympathy. Some, Miss 
Lee particularly, thought the Colonel was 
much at fault, — so Jack heard, — but as he 
was always hearing things in the wrong 
ear,” it little changed my opinion. Yes, 
Miss Baxton and the Colonel had really 
fallen out at last. Their too numerous 
misunderstandings” and petty disagree- 
137 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


merits had now cemented the stone wall ” 
between them. It was over the breakfast- 
table, before I came down one morning. 
No one was there at the time but Mary the 
waitress, who left when the words began to 
fly like angry sparrows about the room. 
The Colonel seemed overcome with rage; 
Miss Baxton, usually firm, but quiet, showed 
the old Adam beneath her white robe, and 
raved like a mad woman. The Colonel 
must and shall leave this house,’' she de- 
clared; she would stand it no longer ” ; and 
the old gentleman said the same thing, she 
must go, or he would. 

Mrs. Brown was between two fires. 
Even Jack, the usually meddlesome Jack, 
remained silent on the subject, not even 
expressing an opinion, which was fortunate. 

It had been a family affair ; not that the 
Colonel and Miss Baxton were any relation, 
for they both declared off any bonds that 
strangers might tie for them. No, indeed, 
they were in no way related, which they 
both fervently thanked Heaven for. It 
138 i 


WEDDING BELLS. 


had been a family affah, nevertheless ; for 
Miss Baxton s mother's only sister was the 
Colonel's father's third wife (it is not known 
whether the last or not). 

It was about her that the fight ensued. 
Miss Baxton naturally stood up and defended 
her precious aunt, while the Colonel offended 
the niece by not admiring the same person. 
It was unfortunate, but it was all over now. 
They both decided to remain, on certain 
conditions, which were known only to the 
parties interested. 

Jack was often amused at their indiffer- 
ence, but only when other more interesting 
and amusing thoughts were absent; and 
then he appeared to be deeply concerned in 
them. Jack told me confidentially that he 
should like to see them friends again, but I 
advised him not to take the task of peace- 
maker " upon himself, so he decided at last 
to leave them alone. 

Miss Lee left one morning, and four new 
boarders arrived that afternoon. Mr. and 
Mrs. Gouverneur Carroll from Virginia, two 
139 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 

elderly people ; and Mrs. Crosby, an invalid, 
with her son, from New Jersey. I couldn’t 
help wondering, as Michael helped the former 
up over the steps of the piazza, assisted on 
one side by the faithful son, if Mrs. Brown 
advertised for old people exclusively, and 
young people were not taken any more, — 
since Jack had shown her what youthful 
vitality was in a quiet place, — and no more 
were desired. 

It was surely becoming monotonous in 
the country. The air seemed to be growing 
heavier every morning. Jack’s spirits be- 
gan to fail him. His walk resembled 
that of an old man. The new arrivals 
were far from congenial people, both from 
Miss Baxton’s standpoint and mine. The 
Colonel contemplated leaving in a short 
time, and Miss Baxton never stayed 
through August, and poor little Jack and 
I had two more weary months. I con- 
sulted Miss Baxton. She proposed that 
we should accompany her to the Cats- 
kills — an invitation which I most readily 
140 


WEDDING BELLS. 


accepted; a plan that was to every pur- 
pose satisfactory. Jack was more than 
delighted. He was enthusiastic. He even 
went so far as to announce to Mrs. Brown 
that he wouldn’t stay any longer for 
millions, which was an unwise thing to 
so rashly announce, especially to the afore- 
said Mrs. Brown to whose generous hospi- 
tality we should be indebted for more than 
a week to come. It was not surprising to 
me when she informed my small brother 
that his presence — heretofore delightful — 
in her cherry tree, was no longer necessary 
to the welfare of the fruit. He was 
debarred from many enjoyments which 
had added so much to his daily happiness. 
Crackers eaten between meals would be 
charged extra, so Jack’s visits to Maria 
ceased. The fruit in the orchard was like 
the tempting apple of Eden, only it could 
cause no fall, as the barred gate signified. 
Even Jack’s footsteps caused complaint. 
Maria failed to find sweeping up his whit- 
tlings a pleasure, and we noticed the 
141 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


pathetic little sign on Manners’s grave 
had been removed and the plot evened. 

It was Sunday, and what a Sunday we 
passed ! The Colonel had gone the night 
before, Miss Baxton’s trunks were strapped, 
and ready to go in the morning. She was to 
go to the city for a few days ; and on Thurs- 
day she agreed to meet us at the Lynchtown 
railroad station, at nine o’clock a.m. The 
train left at eight minutes past nine. 

All our arrangements she had made with 
her own, and our trunks would be sent for 
on Wednesday evening. We had nothing 
to do but to see that they were packed, 
and to have no delay about meeting her 
on Thursday morning. She would surely 
leave on that train, and be there. That, I 
set before Jack. If he failed in any way 
to miss it, he would be left in the country, 
absolutely without money or friends. Miss 
Baxton was excited and nervous when she 
left. She ate little or no breakfast, and 
gave the directions how to meet her, in an 
agitated state of mind. Jack she warned 
142 


WEDDING BELLS. 


not to leave the house, the morning we 
were to start, lest he should be left behind. 
She forgot her umbrella, her best gloves, 
and numerous other things in her haste to 
catch the train; and four times Michael 
stopped the horse and returned to the 
house. When she finally did reach the 
station, she was so excited that she didn’t 
notice that the train was standing there, 
and in her zeal to board it, the loosened 
strap of her bag gave way, and she was 
obliged to stop then and there and repack 
it, while the train moved on. For almost 
two hours, Michael and I scoured the place 
for lost tracts and small articles. She 
was much more composed when the 10.30 
came in, and would have been thoroughly 
so, if Jack hadn’t appeared on the scene of 
action, surprised that she was waiting for 
a train, when Michael could have driven 
her down to the village in less time, over 
an hour ago; and reconsidering his wise 
words, we left her a deeply puzzled but 
wiser woman. 


143 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


It was at breakfast the next morning, 
that Jack called my attention to the 
Morning Budget for news, and to my 
great surprise and astonishment, among 
the ‘^Marriage Notices,” we read: — 

“ On Monday afternoon, the first of 
August, at the Parsonage, by the Rev. 
Thomas D. McGinley: Colonel Henry 
Montague Lyons, U.S.A., Retired, of 
Trenton, to Miss Elizabeth Verplanck 
Baxton, only daughter of the late 
Rev. Jonathan Edwards Baxton, D.D., 
L.L.D., (of Union Theological Semi- 
nary, New York).” 


144 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A night’s tragedy. 

O N Wednesday evening the expressman 
called for the trunks. They were all 
ready, and strapped, both Jack’s and mine. 

He said something about thinking they 
were both to go for the Lynchtown train ; 
and he had gone some way, when I con- 
cluded there must have been a mistake in 
the addresses, and ran after him. Surely a 
mistake, indeed. Jack had volunteered, 
insisted, I should say, on marking his own 
trunk, and here was the address : — 

This trunk belongs to Mr. John Van 
Rensselaer Crowninshield Elliott, of New 
York,” and down in the corner, he had 
written : — 

To go along with the other one.” 

The address was changed, and the trunks 
again started for Lynchtown. 

L 145 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


Jack was indignant that I should have 
interfered with his trunk, and good common- 
sense failed to assert itself. He openly 
avowed that he wouldn’t get up at all the 
next morning, I could start by myself, etc. 

However, the next morning he did get 
up, and early. He was up before I was, 
and had had his breakfast. The carriage 
was ordered for eight, to give us plenty of 
time to reach Lynchtown, a four-mile ride. 

Michael was on hand at the appointed 
time, — perhaps a little before. Mishaps 
might occur,” he said, which was true. 

Jack, who until then had been sitting 
on the lower step of the piazza, suddenly 
disappeared. We looked up the road, and 
down again ; in the house, and out ; down 
in the cellar, up in the garret, everywhere. 
We called him, and only a despairing echo 
came back to us from among the trees. 
Not a sound reached us of that desperate 
boy. 

Michael searched high and low for h im , 
and the moments passed. 

146 


A NIGHT’S TRAGEDY. 


We’ve only got twinty minutes now, 
to catch the train,” says Michael, coming 
up breathless. I don’t see how we’ll iver 
do it, and he ain’t here any way. You’ll 
’ave to postpone it for sure.” 

I can’t,” I cried. My tickets are all 
bought. My trunks have gone. Oh, Jack ! 
Oh, Jack ! ” 

Wa’al, if thar ain’t cornin’ the crittur 
now,” says Michael, sure as the sun rose 
this mornin’.” 

^^But not on time, as the sun did,” I 
protested. 

^^Wa’al, old feller, you most got left,” 
said the good-natured Irishman, as Jack 
came up. 

I gave him a withering glance, and got 
into the long-waiting vehicle. 

Jack followed me. 

I went up to the Styleses’ to take back 
their little gray kitten. He was lost, I 
guess.” 

^Wery important when you knew you 
had to catch a train, wasn’t it?” I said. 

147 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


^^Well, you see I’d been back quick 
enough, but Sam wasn’t home, and as I 
wanted to say good-by to him, I went up 
to his grandfather’s.” 

I hope you said good-by ? ” I replied. 

Jack was wistful. I’m thinking about 
a new machine his grandfather’s just bought. 
He’s having it put in this morning. Oh, 
you can just bet your boots it’s a dandy.” 

I have no wish to bet them,” I said coolly. 

Michael reined up before a large gray 
station. You’ve got to run,” he said, as 
he helped us out, and followed with the 
bundles. 

Mrs. Lyons, in an unquestionably swell 
travelling suit, rushed forward. 

It was all Jack’s fault,” I said, as I 
saw her reproachful eyes; and she said 
nothing. The train was just starting, as 
we reached it. The conductor signalled, 
and they waited for us to board. 

Michael, bright at the prospects of a new 
suit, in payment for the well-won race, 
stood hat in hand, as the train moved out. 

148 


A NIGHT'S TEAGEDY. 


It won't be much without yer/' he said, 
^^but then we’ll have to git along some 
way,” and Jack waved good-by as long as 
he could see him. 

Neither the Colonel nor Mrs. Lyons were 
much pleased with Jack’s conduct, and said 
little to him. He took a seat in the front 
end of the car, on noticing their rigid in- 
difference, and was soon lost in some cata- 
logues of machines that Sam had given 
him. 

In an hour we reached Gates’s Crossing,” 
where we changed for the Pullman. The 
Colonel’s attention to the newly made Mrs. 
Lyons seemed to amuse Jack immensely. 
Every time the Colonel referred to what 
^^Mrs. Lyons” said. Jack smiled broadly. 
He didn’t appear such friends, or on such 
intimate terms with them, as before their 
marriage. Had this become a barrier in his 
eyes ? 

At last Jack spoke ; I fancied he had 
long desired to do so, but had refrained 
from diffidence. I was wondering,” said 
149 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


he, if you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Lyons, but 
wasn’t this a runaway marriage?” 

Why so ? ” she asked. 

Because you didn’t tell any one. Did 
you have to settle much on the Colonel, 
because he gave you a title?” asked the 
inquisitive, despite my glances in that 
direction. 

I did not,” replied that lady, for the 
good reason that I have, as yet, seen no 
title; not,” she added, ^Hhat he, or any 
other man, would have got a copper of 
mine, if he had been heir to the English 
throne.” 

You mean the Prince of Wales, don’t 
you?” said Jack. ^^He’s married.” 

I am referring to no particular person,” 
said Mrs. Lyons. You understand, a colo- 
nel in the United States army is not a title 
for which one is very desirous, that I know 
of.” 

Oh ! ” said Jack. Our compartment 
was large, but to Jack it seemed small. 
He fidgeted around in a most uneasy man- 
150 


A NIGHT’S TKAGEDY. 

ner. His embarrassment seemed to be 
growing upon him more and more. He 
regretted, as I did, that he had spoken 
at all, and the Colonel noticed it. 

We’ll forgive you. Jack,” he said 
cheerfully, ^^for thinking such old people 
as Mrs. Lyons and myself had had a run- 
away marriage.” 

Thank you ; we are not the same age,” 
interrupted his wife. 

No, but I’m old,” he said brightly. 

Too old to get married, weren’t you ?” 
said Jack. 

The Colonel laughed at the child’s re- 
mark, and took it good-naturedly, but my 
mental agitation was great, nevertheless. 

The day passed uneventfully, save for an 
alarming illness of Jack’s at noon, when he 
declared, to the open horror of our fellow- 
passengers, that Maria had poisoned him 
with an apple when he came away, and he 
would swear to it. 

Every one, from conductor to porter, 
grew alarmed at this moment, and has- 
151 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


tened to find a physician, which, I assured 
them, was wholly unnecessary. Jack was 
just about breathing his last when he 
arrived, but revived wonderfully when the 
doctor prophesied future life and happiness 
in store for him. 

After dinner he wandered away from us. 
The train was long, and the people very 
agreeable, — so Jack said, — and we let him 
go. 

At seven the sun set. Never before did 
such perfect rays of glory gild the earth. 
The train was circling a valley, and we 
were almost blinded by the sun’s rays, as 
it crept down the mountain-slope. 

It was not long after this, when the 
porter put his ebony head through the 
portieres of our compartment. Sorry to 
disturb yoh, ladies,” he said, ^^but is de 
boy in dar? ” 

The boy ? ” said I. No ; has any- 
thing happened ? ” 

^^Well, yoh see, miss, dat’s it. De con- 
ductor thinks he must hab got throwed off 
152 


A NIGHT^S TRAGEDY. 


dis ar train at de curve, miss. We ain't 
seen him since; and somethin’, for sure, 
blowed off de obs’vation platform, at de 
curve.” 

My Jack ! ” I cried. Miles away 
from us, lying dead ! ” 

Mrs. Lyons rose. The Colonel had fallen 
asleep, and we didn’t awaken him. We 
left him, and followed the porter. 

The conductor was a kind, fatherly 
man, and his look of sympathy was 
intense. The boy wasn’t with you?” 
he said, coming forward. 

^^No,” said I. ^^We haven’t seen him 
since dinner.” 

The worst had come. There was no 
returning to the spot where his frail little 
body lay. We were miles away from it. 
There was no station where the conductor 
could send word but what was miles from 
the fatal curve. A gentleman had lost his 
life there a week before, and his body was 
picked up by the next express. Jack’s 
would be, if the night express only saw it. 

153 


4 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


There were grave doubts of this, as night 
was already upon us. We would get off 
at the next station, and wait for news. 
The night express might bring it, and if 
not, none would be possible until morning. 

The Colonel was thoroughly roused now, 
and excited. ^^If we’d only amused him, 
he wouldn’t have gone out,” he declared. 

Ah, if we only had ! ” 

Mrs. Lyons packed their satchels, and 
tied on her veil. The next station would 
be reached in about twenty minutes. The 
conductor had sent word to the engineer to 
stop, as a child had been lost off at the 
curve. 

In a few moments, a very excited boy 
rushed to our compartment. Mrs. Lyons I ” 
he cried, breathless with excitement, a boy 
was blown off at the curve, and we’re going 
to send word back, when we get to the next 
station, for the night express to pick up his 
body.” 

We were almost faint at the sight of him. 

Where have you been ?” we all three cried. 

154 


A NIGHT^S TRAGEDY. 


With the engineer. He’s the best feller 
going. He said, ^ this is the second accident 
on the curve this month.’ I want to go 
back and see him stop the train.” 

“ No,” I cried ; Not an inch do you 
move.” 

The engineer was as much amused as 
Jack, when he heard that his interesting 
friend” was the supposed victim of that 
night’s tragedy. 


155 

V.. 


CHAPTER XX. 


STAMFORD, 


E reached Stamford early the next 



▼ ▼ morning. It was a charming day of 
summer, bright, cool, and altogether beauti- 
ful. The very atmosphere of the place was 
refreshing. We reached the house in less 
than six or eight minutes’ drive; a large 
hospitable farmhouse, such as are not built 
in a day. Mrs. Powers, our hostess, came 
immediately forward, and shook hands with 
us, remarking pleasantly that we had brought 
the grandest day of summer with us. Jack 
appeared delighted with her. We were 
ushered into a large room, completely lined 
with long tables, spread with the snowiest 
cloths imaginable. She gave us a little 
table close to the door, suggesting that we 
have a little breakfast before we went up. 
Jack ate with no credit to the boarding-house 


STAMFOKD. 


we had left. He finished several large 
home-made rolls before the Colonel had 
removed his duster. Mrs. Lyons suggested 
that we wait for him to finish, but I thought 
not, as things were beginning to disappear 
with wonderful rapidity. Now, or never, 
we must eat. 

After our repast, Mrs. Powers led the 
way to our rooms. They were on the next 
floor, as desired. The ColoneFs and Mrs. 
Lyons’s were on one side of the house. Jack’s 
and mine directly opposite. The rooms pre- 
sented a faultless appearance, as Mrs. Powers 
turned the keys, well proud to display them. 
Again, there were no children in the house ; 
Mrs. Powers never took children, as a rule. 
Jack was an exception. He was too old 
to be troublesome,” she explained to the 
Colonel, who surveyed Jack critically, as 
she spoke. 

Ah, yes, a good, well-mannered boy, no 
trouble to any one,” he said. 

The day passed into the calendar, and 
was judged accordingly. In the afternoon 
157 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Jack took a walk about the place and ap- 
peared in time for supper, which was so 
unusual that Mrs. Lyons remarked upon it. 
At our table was Mr. Montgomery Lafavour, 
a bachelor from New York; and an elderly 
gentleman whom the Colonel had met years 
before, and was anxious to present to us. 

^^Mr. — er, my wife, and Miss Elliott.’’ 

His name ? ” said Mrs. Lyons. 

^^Yes, yes,” said the Colonel, ^Hhe name. 
I’ve forgotten it. Your name, sir ? ” 

The man again bowed to Mrs. Lyons and 
myself, but the Colonel insisted. What’s 
your name,* sir ? ” 

He’s deaf as an old post,” interrupted 
Jack ; you’ll have to scream.” (At which 
Mr. Lafavour smiled broadly.) I’ll do 
it.” 

Jack ! ” I gave him a glance. 

The Colonel rose and went to him. 

Sir, I’ve forgotten your name,” he 
screamed, at the very highest pitch of 
his masculine voice. Your name ! I’ve 
forgotten it.” 


158 


STAMFOKD. 


Jack unfortunately grinned from ear to 
ear. 

The man coloured. Oh, my name ? 
Certainly. Pitchorloser.” 

What ? ’’ cried the Colonel. Pitch 

how ? 

Pitch-or-lose-her,” said Jack. That's 

his name." 

Mrs. Lyons looked annoyed. The Colo- 
nel looked thoroughly exhausted. I never 
heard such a name," he said. I used to 
call him Charles, so I’d forgotten it." 

Mr. Pitchorloser seemed to be as much 
interested in Jack as the other man was 
in me. 

“ I suppose these are your grandchil- 
dren ? " he inquired of Mrs. Lyons. She 
coloured indignantly, and made him no 
reply. 

She’s a bride," said Jack. Not been 
married a week," and he held up one 
finger to indicate the time. Not a week," 
he repeated. 

There was not one head but that was 
159 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


turned by this exclamation, or declaration ; 
which was it ? 

Mrs Lyons continued eating her supper, 
and the Colonel studied the wall paper 
intently, as he noticed the look of indig- 
nation upon her face. 

Perhaps your sister would like to join 
our party at cards this evening ? ’’ said 
Mr. Lafavour to my small brother, though 
he looked for approval from me. 

No. She don’t play cards with strange 
men,^’ he replied frankly. ^^My mother 
don’t allow such capers. Don’t think, 
because I’m not as big as you, that I don’t 
know what ^ cards ’ mean.” 

Why, a game of whist or euchre, I 
should suppose,” explained the opponent. 

^^Not a bit. You’re a gambler. My 
sister don’t gamble. She’s a lady, and — ” 
but at this time the Colonel had heard 
enough, and led Jack very unwillingly 
from the room. 

I’ve got to look out for her,” were his 
last words. I’m her brother.” 

160 


CHAPTER XXI. 


THE TRAGICAL END OF MRS. THORNTON. 

XT was late afternoon, at the end of a 
fortnight’s visit at Stamford. Jack 
had as yet done nothing to merit reproach, 
and was known as the quiet boy,” and 
much liked by the boarders. There was 
an old lady living near to the Powerses, 
whose company Jack much sought, and 
where he passed many uneventful hours. 
Jack had been the first person to enter her 
domain for more than thirty years, and as 
he accepted all invitations, he visited her 
frequently. She was very, very old. No one 
knew exactly how old, and even Jack failed 
to unearth the secret. She lived in an un- 
civilized-looking house in the dense woods, 
where only the butcher and grocer ever 
dared to tread. Their intercourse with her 
had been through a tree-stump for years, 

M 161 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


and there Messrs. Low and Skettle found 
their orders and directions, and prompt 
cash when the goods were delivered. For 
years she had not been seen in the village. 

Often she was thought to be dead, but 
the grocer and butcher always contra- 
dicted that report by the large orders which 
old Mrs. Thornton never forgot to place in 
the tree-stump. That she was rich none 
doubted, and only Jack failed to think her 
eccentric. How he made her acquaintance 
he would never tell. That he knew her 
was verified by his appearance at her front 
parlour windows (if such were the room), 
seated in a large and portly rocker, where 
he was seen for the first time the morning 
after our arrival, when the news reached 
the ears of the town. 

Day after day he was seen there. He 
never discussed her afiairs, much to the 
annoyance of questioning and curious peo- 
ple, and particularly Mrs. Lyons, who 
longed to know more of the hermit’s life 
than she was allowed to. Jack would not 
162 


TEAGICAL END OF MES. THOENTON. 


betray the confidence of his newly found 
friend. Mrs. Lyons would pet him, indulge 
him, but her pleadings were of no avail. 
Jack often shopped for the old lady, but 
he never exhibited her purchases, or told 
of their value. Mrs. Lyons thought things 
were coming to a strange pass, and held up 
a warning finger. She had heard that the 
old lady was demented, and likely might 
murder Jack one of these days ; but no 
persuasions on my part would my small 
brother entertain. 

A severe thunder-storm had broken over 
Stamford on the previous afternoon, wreck- 
ing the North Church steeple and chimneys 
in its delirium. A portion of the Powerses^ 
windmill had succumbed to the storm, and 
called forth much attention by its dilapi- 
dated appearance. Colonel Lyons and a 
Captain Jones from Hobart had discussed it 
a long time, when the two sauntered toward 
the house, the Captain gesticulating vigor- 
ously and the Colonel keeping a most digni- 
fied silence as he listened attentively. 

163 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


It has taken you some time to discover 
the damage done to the windmill/' Mrs. 
Lyons said crisply, as the two came in 
hearing of the piazza. 

We were not discussing the windmill/' 
said her husband. ^^It's Jack Captain 
Jones was speaking of." 

The Captain bowed to both of us. Yes, 
ma'am, of the boy," he frankly confessed. 

You know, ma'am," he continued, that 
boy Jack is a great friend of the old lady 
Thornton's. You probably have noticed 
it?" 

Mrs. Lyons nodded an affirmative. 

^^Wa'al, it's this way. That property 
she lives on has belonged to me for a 
year, and she won't give it up, and what I 
want to find out is, what she intends to do 
about it. That boy knows. That old 
woman has been livin' on my sympathy 
for more 'an twenty years. She ain't 
paid a red copper on that 'ar mortgage 
sense I wuz born, and that wern't yester- 
day. My father held it before me, and 
1G4 


TRAGICAL END OF MRS. THORNTON. 


now I’ve got a chance to sell that ’ere prop- 
erty for a small fortune, and that old lady 
has got to move. She’s got to move, ef I 
move her myself.” And he let his hand down 
on his knee with decided emphasis. 

Jack, who had been standing inside the 
screen door, rushed out. You don’t mean 
you’re going to kill her?” he said patheti- 
cally. 

The Captain jumped. ^^Wa’al, n-o,” he 
said slowly, with a sly glance at the Colo- 
nel ; I do mean, though, she’s got to get 
out. You see, dear child — ” 

But Jack interrupted him. Please ad- 
dress me by my name,” he said defiantly ; 

I won’t take any ^ dear child ’ from any 
one like you. My name is John Elliott, 
and please use it.” 

The man hesitated. ^^Wa’al, you see, 
John,” he said, I know you’re sorry for her, 
but she don’t need your sympathy. She’s 
a sort of relation to me, and that ’ere prop- 
erty she lives on belonged to her father. 
She’s gone an’ mortgaged it up for more 
165 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


’ans it’s worth, an’ refuses to pay any inter- 
est. She’s got other property that I’ve ’ad 
my eye on for some time, an’ that ’ere other 
property is valuable now, and I’m jist goin’ 
to take it away from her for the interest 
she owes me, and make her move to boot. 
She can go to the poorhouse, where she 
belongs. She might ’ave ’ad my father on 
her side, but she ain’t got me. N-o sir-ee.” 

In his ignorance he had taken out his 
clay pipe, and was proceeding to fill it, 
when Mrs. Lyons rose. Colonel,” she 
said, ^^if this man is to your liking, he’s 
not to mine. My father was the Reverend 
Jonathan Edwards Baxton, a gentleman, 
by birth and education.” And she went 
in, and banged the door. 

Jack retired to the woodshed, where he 
thought over the Captain’s words. Mrs. 
Thornton had sold the property he had 
spoken of, and the money was all in the 
house. What if he knew it ? He intended 
to take it away from her, make her move, 
or — kill her — and this he believed firmly. 

166 





“ Colonel, if this man is to yovr liking, he’s not to wine " 





4 



TRAGICAL END OF MRS. THORNTON. 


It was a week from that day, when, on 
Mr. Skettle’s weekly visit to the stump, he 
had found no order for groceries, that he 
was alarmed. Mr. Low, the butcher, was 
as greatly alarmed as the former; and it was 
only when the light failed to be seen at 
night in the cottage windows, that people 
began to talk. Jack refused to be inter- 
viewed ; but in that lay no mystery, for it 
was thought that probably by this time, 
they had had a falling out,” and Jack 
didn’t care to acknowledge it. 

That was easily explained,” Mrs. Lyons 
said, and we were all agreed. 

For three days, her whereabouts were 
discussed by the villagers. She may have 
got one of her queer spells,” some said. But 
Jack thought differently, and quite differ- 
ently at that. 

He was swinging on the gate that even- 
ing, directly in front of the house, dividing 
his attention between myself and Mr. Lafa- 
vour, and our game of cards, when Captain 
Jones drove up. I suppose you ain’t heard 
167 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


anything about the old woman lately/’ said 
the Captain, stopping his horse for a planned 
interview. 

That’s your business/’ said Jack, as he 
got down and strode away. 

^‘Wa’al, be gosh. I’ll make it my busi- 
ness,” cried out the angered man; ^^and ef 
that woman ain’t out of my house to-mor- 
row, my name ain’t Jim Jones. I’m on my 
way there now, to settle her.” 

Mrs. Lyons and the Colonel exchanged 
glances, as did several of the other boarders 
on the Powerses’ piazza. 

If he murders her, there are plenty who 
heard his murderous declaration,” said Mrs. 
Blake to Mrs. Delevan, both missionaries 
in foreign lands. Mr. Pitchorloser was so 
absorbed in smoking, that his silence was 
not intruded upon, and Mr. Lafavour’s 
interest had not been awakened. 

We had finished our game when Jack 
joined us. He sat down on the piazza rail- 
ing beside me, and in full view of Mrs. 
Lyons’s curious eyes. What do you sup- 
168 


TRAGICAL END OF MRS. THORNTON. 


pose the Captain intends to do with poor 
Mrs. Thornton, Jack?’’ the latter inquired, 
after a brief moment of silence. 

Jack shook his head. Nothing, I 
guess,” was his reply. ‘^That old lady 
wasn’t born yesterday.” 

Nor the day before that, eh. Jack ?” was 
Mr. Lafavour’s laughing comment. But 
Mrs. Lyons looked grim and firm. 

didn’t ask you her age. Jack,” she 
returned sharply, for I am well aware how 
little you really know of her affairs, and 
how much you pretend to know. It is an 
undisputed and acknowledged fact.” 

Jack looked aggravating. People don’t 
seem to think so,” said he, as he said good- 
night. 

It was shortly after breakfast, the next 
morning, when the whole town was roused. 
The road was filled with people, and the 
greatest excitement prevailed everywhere. 
Mrs. Thornton’s hut had been burnt to the 
ground, and the old lady had probably 
perished. 


169 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


The Colonel had escaped Mrs. Lyons’s ob- 
servation, and before she had had time to 
discover his absence, he had accused Captain 
Jones of arson and murder. The Captain 
was arrested on the Colonel’s word, and 
lodged in jail. All of the Powerses’ boarders, 
with the slight exception of Mr. Pitchor- 
loser, Mr. Lafavour, and myself, willingly 
testified to the Captain’s threat. 

Jack was not at home when the excite- 
ment broke out, having had an earlier 
breakfast than we, and fortunately did not 
appear until too late to testify to all that 
he wished to. 

Jack was very rash in his accusations, 
and I well knew that the most innocent 
had but little mercy if he was against 
them. 

The verdict was, That the old lady Thorn- 
ton came to her death by fire, at the hands 
of Captain Jones.” 

The Captain’s trial came off in three days, 
when witnesses proved that he was in his 
own house when the fire occurred; and, 
170 


TRAGICAL END OF MRS. THORNTON. 


although slight suspicion still rested upon 
him, he was allowed to go free. 

It was late in the afternoon of the same 
day, when Jack was put under arrest, de- 
spite the angry protestations of the whole 
town. As he had not been seen near Mrs. 
Thornton’s cottage for three days before the 
fire occurred, it was agreed that they had 
had a quarrel, and that this was his revenge. 
Poor Jack ! If he would only tell where he 
was when the fire broke out, we might prove 
an alibi, but this he stubbornly refused to do. 

The trial was set for a week that day ; 
but being a small boy, he was allowed out 
on bail. 

^^Oh, if he had only let that woman 
alone,” I thought, and Mrs. Lyons echoed 
my cry. Hadn’t she warned him to stay 
away from there? 

It was discovered later that the property 
that Captain Jones had built hopes upon 
had been sold, and when he realized that 
the money had perished, he was a more 
desperate man than ever. 

171 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Jack never said a word. He declared he 
would not betray Mrs. Thornton’s secrets, 
if he had to suffer for them, and he meant 
to keep his word. Jack’s indifference as to 
the old lady’s death only threw more sus- 
picion upon him. His silence seemed to cover 
up some deep mystery. Mrs. Lyons thought, 
from his stubbornness, that Jack’s mind was 
failing, but it hardly seemed possible. 

Jack said that what he had promised 
not to tell, he wasn’t going to, and by 
this declaration, many thought that Mrs. 
Thornton had burnt down the cottage her- 
self, and escaped. 

Seven of the most unhappy days of my 
life passed away before the hour came for 
Jack’s trial. I was waiting for him in the 
parlour, when a carriage drove up to the 
house. A gentleman alighted, — a tall, 
angular-looking man, somewhat gray, and 
evidently a stranger in the place. I am 
looking for a family of Elliotts,” he said, 
bowing, as I went forward ; I was told 
they were boarding here.” 

172 


TEAGICAL END OF MES. THOENTON. 


name is Elliott/’ I said quietly, 
supposing he brought some other frightful 
news with which to astound me. 

I want a boy by the name of Jack,” he 
said ; I have here a package for him.” 

Jack rushed forward. ‘^Oh, you’re not 
going to hang me ? ” he cried, for I truly 
didn’t kill her. She went away from here 
three days before the fire broke out. She 
promised to write to me, but she never 
did.” The dear old Colonel was holding 
the trembling child in his arms. ^^Oh, I 
wasn’t near the cottage. Colonel,” he 
sobbed. was down at the Goulds’ 

pond, swimming. I promised sister I’d 
never go there again, and I didn’t dare to 
tell.” 

The man was more mystified than we. 

Mrs. Thornton was not murdered, that I 
know of,” said the astonished man. I am 
a lawyer from Kingston. Some weeks ago 
an old lady came there, and engaged board 
at a family of Laurels, on Chestnut Street. 
She paid her board for a month in advance. 

173 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


The day after her arrival there, she was 
taken very ill, and remained so until yes- 
terday morning, when she died. She said 
her name was Clara Thornton, and she had, 
until recently, resided at Stamford. She 
left this little package, with the instruc- 
tion that it was to be sent to a little boy 
named Jack Elliott, at Stamford. There 
was another package, which contained two 
hundred dollars, with which to defray all 
funeral expenses. I believe she is to be 
buried here to-morrow afternoon, in the 
churchyard. I have that, also, to attend 
to, as her papers give no number of the 
square ; so if I may leave this package with 
you, I will say good-afternoon.” 

Jack took it, but made no reply. He 
went upstairs, and there we opened it. It 
contained an old-fashioned watch, a small 
gold ring, a brooch, and eight hundred 
dollars. On a slip of paper were written 
these words : — 

“ For my little friend Jack, whose friendship 
was the one happiness of my life, and whose 
174 


TRAGICAL END OF MRS. THORNTON. 


memory will be with me, when I go beyond his 
sight. 

“Clara Thornton.” 

Jack dropped the box, and hid his face 
on my shoulder. 

The Colonel’s eyes, too, were wet. 
Well, Jack, if you have had lots of fun 
at other people’s expense, you know how 
to make friends, don’t you? I tell you, 
Elizabeth,” he said, turning to his wife, 
you may go the world over, and you’ll 
never find another boy with as much of a 
saint in him as our Jack. Angels never 
speak unless appealed to.” 


175 


CHAPTER XXII. 


LEE Gorman’s balloon ascent. 

W HEN I heard of Lee Gorman’s pro- 
posed balloon ascent, announced for 
the following afternoon, at Hobart, I firmly 
resolved that Jack should be elsewhere on 
the occasion. There was no doubt that he 
had heard of it, for what didn’t reach Jack’s 
ears was of no particular importance. His 
silence on the subject only the more 
aroused my suspicions. The Colonel, anx- 
ious to learn Jack’s views thereon, talked 
of balloons for three nights in succession at 
the tea-table, only to be more and more 
mystified by Jack’s silence and apparent 
indifference. Never by chance did he once 
refer to Lee Gorman. Over and over 
again the Colonel repeated the story of 
his young cousin, who, anxious to gain 
notoriety, ascended in a balloon, and gave 
176 


LEE GORMAN’S BALLOON ASCENT. 


his young life in payment for the moment’s 
amusement of the crowd. Mrs. Lyons 
brushed away a tear, as he repeated it, — 
the sudden downfall into the sea, the lost 
life, and the sorrowing friends and relations, 
— but through it all Jack never spoke. Mr. 
Lafavour also narrated some weird tales 
of lost balloons, invented specially for the 
occasion, but Jack appeared little impressed, 
and very unbelieving. Once or twice he 
frowned, and I understood from my longer 
acquaintance with him that his temper was 
being ruffled. He looked at the Colonel 
several times in a threatening way, but the 
old gentleman talked on, heedless of the 
impending wrath. It was not until he had 
introduced a new story, — fearing that the 
others had not worked the desired effect, — 
that Jack rose. The Colonel was describ- 
ing the burning of a balloon in the mid-air ; 
the despair of the aeronaut, whose vast 
knowledge of balloons was now useless. 
He told how he perished before the crowd, 
who were unable to save him; how he 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


perished beyond the reach of a human hand. 
^^Ah, Jack realizes the torture the man 
suffered/’ he exclaimed, as the boy stood 
up by Mrs. Lyons, and interrupted him. 

^^No, it’s not that that I’m thinking of,” 
said he, but I’m just dead sick of these 
stories ; I want to know, Mrs. Lyons, where 
it says in the Bible about there being no 
liars in heaven.” And Mrs. Lyons smiled. 

In Revelation, dear,” she said ; the 
twenty-first chapter, eighth verse.” 

But this man was not a liar,” the 
Colonel interrupted ; it was no newspaper 
story, written by the aeronaut himself, on 
daring leaps, etc.” 

I’m not talking about him,” said Jack, 
as he turned to go ; I just want to ask Mrs. 
Lyons to please read that chapter of Rev- 
elation to you, when you’re through supper, 
and not to forget it,” and he walked out. 

Perhaps I did say too much,” said the 
Colonel, when he had gone ; ^^but his indig- 
nation has convinced me that his belief in 
Gorman’s balloon is unshaken, and he 
178 


LEE GOEMAN’S BALLOON ASCENT. 


intends to be there. We must hold the 
fort in some other way/’ he said, as he got 
up. There is still night before the break 
of day.” 

The day of the widely advertised balloon 
ascent ” came in bright and beautiful with 
the rising sun. The Colonel had passed 
the entire night, praying fervently for rain, 
and was thoroughly exhausted and disgusted, 
when the day came. It was known that 
the ascent would not be made unless the 
weather was clear, and, as the aeronaut 
was booked ” for another town the next 
day, it would not come off at all. If Jack 
prayed for clear weather. Heaven smiled on 
him most divinely. The day was perfect. 
Not a cloud passed over the serene coun- 
tenance of heaven. The Colonel looked 
reaUy angry, as he entered the breakfast 
room the next morning. Jack was buried 
in his paper, but handed it to him as he 
came in. 

It’s bully weather, isn’t it ? ” he said, 
shaking his head with a decided air of 
179 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


victory. I told him it wouldn’t rain, 
didn’t I, Mrs. Lyons ? ” 

I have entirely forgotten your prophe- 
cies concerning the weather,” that lady 
replied stiffly, as she helped herself to rolls. 

Well, I remember them,” said Jack, 
‘^and I know the Colonel wanted it to rain; 
didn’t you, Colonel ? ” 

I don’t think I ever gave it as much 
as a passing thought,” was the reply. I 
dare say little Ben Carey did, though. It’s 
a day of days to him ; but old men like me 
are beyond wishing for clear weather and 
sunshine. Children are easily pleased and 
disappointed,” he said thoughtfully. 

Jack made no reply. The victorious 
smile of the previous moment faded from 
his face. Who was Ben Carey, who was to 
be so happy to-day? Was he a rival of 
his ? Had the Colonel found a new boy ? 
Jack stared at him in abject horror and 
surprise. 

The Colonel took out his watch and set 
it with the clock opposite to us in the 
180 


LEE GORMAN’S BALLOON ASCENT. 

dining room. “ I was just a little slow,” 
he said to himself. It might have been 
the means of my losing that train, .though.” 

Are you going away. Colonel?” Jack 
asked, with a slight tremor of anxiety in 
his voice. 

Well, yes, I had planned to go if the 
day was a bright one,” he replied indiffer- 
ently, as he went on with his breakfast. 

But don’t interrupt me now. Jack, with 
talking, for I must hurry.” 

^^You don’t mind my asking if you’re 
coming back again?” Jack said slowly. 

^^Oh, no, no. Yes, I expect to come 
back, but don’t interrupt me any more,” 
said the Colonel, as he hurriedly finished 
his coffee. 

Jack fell more to thinking than to eat- 
ing. The Colonel appeared so hurried at his 
repast that he finished Mrs. Lyons’s steak 
and his own, without noticing it. J ack sat 
with his hands in his trousers pockets, his 
chair somewhat tilted, and took the Colo- 
nel in. 


181 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY 


‘^Colonel/’ said he, ^‘1 know I’m aw- 
fully inquisitive,” — by way of apology for 
his overwhelming curiosity, — but is Ben 
Carey happy because it’s a clear day for 
Lee Gorman’s balloon ascent ? ” 

For what ? ” exclaimed the Colonel. 

Jack slowly repeated it. For the bal- 
loon ascent,” he said. ^^The boys are all 
wild over it, but I never heard of a Ben 
Carey, and I know all the fellers round 
here.” 

^^And I never heard of this balloon 
ascent you speak of,” quietly returned the 
Colonel. What is it, and where is it to 
take place ? ” 

Jack told him, adding that he didn’t take 
any interest in it. He guessed it was some 
fake to get money, and thought the Colonel 
would agree with him, but the old gentle- 
man didn’t. 

No, he advised him to go ; he would 
learn how balloons were constructed, and 
perhaps the aeronaut would take him up 
with him ; balloons would hold several. 

182 


LEE GORMAN’S BALLOON ASCENT. 


Would it be safe for me to go?'' 
asked Jack, finding the interest in him 
apparently waning. Are they safe, Colo- 
nel ? ’’ Jack said ; I mean the balloons we 
were speaking of ? And then, lowering 
his voice, he added, with a tremor, Would 
you like to have your new little friend, Ben 
Carey, go up in a balloon ? ’’ 

The Colonel started to his feet in ap- 
parent surprise. Little Ben Carey up in 
one of those death-traps ? No, indeed.’’ 

^^You just said you’d like me to try 
them,” Jack added, with an injured look. 

^^Oh, you misunderstood me, little fel- 
low,” the Colonel quickly explained. I 
thought you wanted to, and knowing your 
love for such adventurous escapades, I 
didn’t like to discourage you. I don’t 
approve of such things, as you well know. 
Now, this little Ben Carey we were speak- 
ing of — ” he continued. 

But Jack stopped him. You’re just 
mistaken. Colonel,” he cried out. don’t 
love such things. I’m a good boy, I am, 
183 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


and you always used to like me before Ben 
got you away, but that’s made no difference 
with me. I’m just as fond of you as ever, 
and I always expect to be,” — that, with a 
little huskiness in his voice, which would 
come when he was really penitent. 

The Colonel appeared not to notice it. 

Thank you,” he replied indifferently. 
^^It’s nice for one to have friends, but 
good-by now, I must be off.” 

Mrs. Lyons drew him back. “ Look 
at that poor child,” she said. And for the 
first time that morning the Colonel smiled 
on Jack. 

You’d better hurry up, little Ben,” he 
said cheerily. ^^That ^Columbia’ was to 
have arrived on the 9.14 this morning, 
and it’s past that now.” 

K Columbia!” cried Jack. ^^For that 
other little boy ? ” 

For all the little boy I know,” said the 
Colonel, ^^and for the only boy I ever 
had.” 

You don’t mean it’s for me, do you ? ” 
184 


LEE GORMAN’S BALLOON ASCENT. 


said Jack, with a questioning look at each 
of us, lest he should be mistaken. 

“ It was bought for you ; that’s all I 
know,” said the old gentleman, smiling, 
and that was all he said. 


185 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE CENTURY RACE. 

N othing ever endeared the Colonel so 
much to Jack’s heart as that bicycle 
did. He had never been allowed one be- 
fore, for he was thought to have enough 
freedom without the winged steed of a 
cycle. And how he rode. The world 
seemed at a standstill, when he passed. 
Men, women, and children fled at his 
approach, for Jack looked out for no 
one. 

It ain’t safe,” Captain Jones said, 
^^a-havin’ that man-killer about.” 

Two or three times he tried to stop 
Jack, to remonstrate with him, but it is 
believed he never did. Jack would not 
ride slowly. The Colonel talked to him, 
and I pleaded. 

No, he would not. It was only babies 
186 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


that crawled along, he said; and it was 
only when I received word from the town 
authorities that the annoyance must be 
stopped, that Jack slackened his speed. 
But oh, so httle ! 

Mrs. Lyons couldn’t detect the difference 
with her best glasses on, yet Jack assured 
her it was snail’s gait.” 

On the evening before the great bicycle 
race at Hobart, Jack retired early. A 
headache accounted for this, we were 
told ; but Mrs. Lyons, becoming alarmed, 
advised the Colonel to look through the 
evening paper, which he had not done 
since its arrival. 

It was the great bicycle race that met 
their eyes on the first column. The 
Colonel didn’t have to point it out to 
Mrs. Lyons, or she to him, for the letters 
were large enough for the whole world 
to read, if it was looking that way. 

Mrs. Lyons glanced at the Colonel, and 
then at me. A century race,” she whis- 
pered, so as not to disturb the Colonel, who 
187 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


had removed his glasses and was in deep 
thought. 

“It's a pity I got him the bicycle, until 
this was over,” he said ; “ but it's not likely 
he will wake up in time to start, for they 
leave soon after four. I shouldn't want to 
hide his wheel, you know, for he'd always 
think me the blackest scoundrel, if he 
found it out ; but you may rest in peace,” 
he assured us, “ if his blinds are closed, the 
hour will pass unheeded.” 

“My soul couldn’t rest in peace, with 
such uncertain assurances as that,” was 
Mrs. Lyons's reply. “ If that boy has 
planned to wake up at three, he will do it, 
and you mark my word.” 

When I retired myself an hour later, I 
found Jack's blinds as widely apart as their 
hinges allowed them, while at his side I 
noticed an “alarm-clock” slumbering, set 
faithfully for half-past three. 

The Colonel and Mrs. Lyons were just 
coming up when I met them. The dear 
old gentleman was only too happy to be 
188 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


of any needed assistance, and volunteered 
at once to close Jack’s blinds from the 
yard, by the aid of a clothes-pole. This 
he did, as no one but he could have done 
it. Tt was the alarm-clock that puzzled us, 
but the Colonel hit upon a plan. We would 
take it away, set it at half-past three, and 
when it had rung out, fix it at the right 
hour and return it. Jack would suppose, 
on discovery, that it had rung without 
awaking him, and this we decided to do. 

Poor little Jack ! Noiselessly the clock 
was removed, prematurely rung out the 
alarm, and then returned. Instinct, or 
Jack’s guardian angel, — I believe in both 
faithfully, — awoke the boy slightly. He 
reached out a small hand and felt for the 
clock. It was there, thank Heaven. He 
threw off a quilt, so as not to be too 
comfortable to awake, and then turned 
over. 

The Colonel, Mrs. Lyons, and I crept 
from the room. I don’t like to spoil his 
fun,” the old gentleman said, apologizing 
189 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


to his conscience, ^^but Jack never seems 
to do anything without death as a specta- 
tor. He seems so entirely heedless. Im- 
agine his racing a hundred miles.’’ 

Don’t be troubled by what you have 
done,” said Mrs. Lyons. ^^That boy has 
gone to sleep with the intention of waking 
up at half-past three, and he will do it. 
Even a sleeping brain is somewhat con- 
scious.” 

Mrs. Lyons’s words made a deep impres- 
sion upon my mind. Several times during 
the night I looked in upon Jack, and every 
time he seemed conscious of my presence. 
Once he murmured something to the effect 
that he wished he didn’t have to sleep in a 
public thoroughfare ; and fearing to further 
awaken him, I left him in peace. 

Sleep overpowered me in a short time, 
and the early hours passed unheeded. But 
not so with Jack. 

At fifteen minutes to four. Jack and his 
silent but faithful steed disappeared in the 
shadow of the house. 

190 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


The Colonel saw him when it was too 
late to remonstrate. He had gone. 

Both the Colonel and I were sadly sur- 
prised by the occurrence, but not so Mrs. 
Lyons. She was not at all surprised. She 
was really indignant at our stupidity. 
^^That boy has too many traps laid for 
him, not to be always on his guard,’’ said 
she. I may have accused Jack of foolish 
frivolities, but I never called him a fool. 
That child loads his gun of suspicion for 
everybody, and aims it in every direction, 
and you are the ones who have taught him 
to do so.” 

He’s a bright young fellow,” added Mr. 
Lafavour, as he joined us on the piazza after 
breakfast, ^^and as cunning as a fox. It’s 
always useless trying to head him off. He 
always regards one with such a knowing 
intelligence.” 

^^Did he mention the bicycle race to 
you?” asked Mrs. Lyons, hoping to gain 
some information which she thought he 

might be informed upon. 

191 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


Oh, my, no ; Jack never confides in me. 
Last night, when we were out here together, 
he was talking about yachting. Bicycles 
weren’t mentioned. He said he had a very 
severe headache, and gave that reason for 
retiring. He imagined he had had a slight 
sunstroke, so he said.” 

Jack is very susceptible to sunstrokes,” 
Mrs. Lyons returned. ^^In his case, they 
are always considered ^dangerous.’ I un- 
derstand his ‘ sunstrokes ’ very well, and 
my remedy is caution and watchfulness.” 

Mr. Lafavour laughed. “ I wonder how 
Jack will keep up with the fellows?” he 
said idly. 

^^It is of no interest to me,” replied 
Mrs. Lyons as she bowed and left him. 
Stray cyclists, like homeless dogs, passed 
the house all day, but Jack was not among 
them. 

He evidently had not given up the race. 
Jack had great faith in the possible, he 
rarely entertained a thought of failure. If 
a ship had been burning, Jack would have 
192 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


been the last one to leave it. Whether he 
had gone with the intention of returning 
with the first prize, no one knew. He had 
evidently gone with the rest of them, and 
that fact was unmistakable. 

The day passed away. Mr. Lafavour 
heard in Hobart that over one hundred 
wheelmen started, — and one small boy. 
They remembered the latter fact because 
there was only one child among them. 
Several gave it up after going a short dis- 
tance, and were seen returning; but they 
didn’t remember seeing the boy come back. 

He started away with the best of them, 
ahead of all,” some one said in the post- 
office, and looked like a possible winner.” 

‘^Jack has great confidence in himself,” 
said Mrs. Lyons, when she overheard the 
latter. Great confidence in himself,” she 
repeated. 

The Colonel worried as the evening came 
on, as to how Jack was faring with the 
others, and how far he had gone. He had 
great faith in Jack’s abilities. He believed 
o 193 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


he would cover a very respectable distance, 
before retiring. It was his whereabouts at 
the present hour that puzzled him. 
hardly believe Jack went the entire dis- 
tance/’ he said, returning from the road, 
where he had wearily watched for the past 
hour. ^^You know a hundred miles is a 
good deal of ground to cover, and for a 
small boy, too. It was a big undertaking 
for him.” 

^^No one asked him to undertake it,” 
was his wife’s reply. ‘^I believe in sym- 
pathy in a good cause. Jack always does 
turn up alive,” she said, and he probably 
will to-night.” 

Every one is alive to the moment of his 
death,” Colonel Lyons said; ^‘not that I 
don’t expect to see Jack every moment. 
Why, I thought that that was the boy now,” 
he exclaimed, rising quickly, as two wheel- 
men came in sight of the house. 

They turned down the carriage-drive, and 
we all feared they were bringing disastrous 
news. But our fears were ungrounded. 

194 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


They were idly making a circuit of the 
drive. 

Colonel Lyons stopped them, and from 
them we learned our first particulars of the 
century race. 

It had long been over, and they were lei- 
surely returning. They remembered seeing 
a boy with them, but they missed him after 
twenty-one miles. They were confident he 
didn’t cover more than that distance, but 
just where he left them, they couldn’t say. 

He rode a new Columbia,” the elder fellow 
said, and was quite talkative.” And 
when Colonel Lyons nodded an affirmative, 
they both confirmed the first statement, that 
he had given up hours before. 

Mrs. Lyons looked worried. ^^Do you 
suppose his wheel broke down, Colonel, and 
do you think he knows the way home?” 

Oh certainly,” both of the fellows as- 
sured her, as they remounted their wheels. 

He’ll come home all right. Here comes a 
whole lot of the fellows now.” But Jack 
was not among them. 

195 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


The clock was striking ten when the last 
of the cyclists passed the house. 

Mr. Lafavour was returning from the post- 
office, or from that vicinity, and was sur- 
prised not to find Jack at home. ‘^Well, 
they’re all back now,” he said, hours ago. 
I’ve forgotten how many went the distance, 
but almost all of them. They didn’t leave 
until almost eight this morning. Probably 
Jack broke down, and is footing it.” 

‘^Footing twenty-five miles? hardly,” I 
suggested. “We have heard that he went 
that far.” 

“Oh, you have?” that gentleman ex- 
claimed. “Well, hardly. Perhaps he’s 
going to put up for the night somewhere, 
and attack the home run in the morning. 
It’s miserable for the boy to be left so far 
from home.” 

All these probabilities and possibilities 
did not ease my troubled mind. I didn’t 
mention it, but I couldn’t think of any 
fortune that Jack could have with him. 

The thought had hardly passed through 
196 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


my mind, when there came a crash of thun- 
der, — a crash like all the chariots of heaven 
on the housetops. Another clap, and then 
the skies burst into light. 

Jack was our only thought. Mrs. Lyons 
started from her seat. Oh, that poor 
little boy ! she said. “ Oh, that poor 
child ! ’’ 

The thunder and lightning ceased, and 
the rain fell in torrents. Not a sound in 
the distance reached us. Darker and 
drearier grew the world around us. 

The Colonel looked in vain for a sight of 
Jack, and was disappointed and silent. I 
wonder if Jack had any money with him ? 
he said, after a long silence. 

I don’t think so. Colonel,” I replied. 

He never keeps a cent in his pocket two 
days.” 

Another clap of thunder startled Mr. 
Lafavour’s meditation at the end window. 

Oh, that boy’s never out to-night,” he 
exclaimed, turning. “ I would stake my 
life upon it. He’s safe under some roof.” 

197 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Under some tree’s shelter, if he’s 
penniless,” gloomily replied the Colonel. 
^^Jack won’t beg or borrow from stran- 
gers. It’s peculiar, but he won’t do it. 
He is very independent. I don’t know 
whether it’s timidity or pride, but Jack 
wouldn’t ask for a night’s lodging as long 
as the road was free to him.” 

Eleven o’clock struck, and gloomily to 
every heart. Every one seemed to take 
a personal interest in Jack. The rain was 
pouring in its wildest vengeance, when Mr. 
Lafavour donned his mackintosh and went 
down the road. No persuasion to the con- 
trary would that man entertain. Half an 
hour passed before he was seen returning, 
and then he came alone. 

Probably he will pay pneumonia its 
dues for that ridiculous walk,” said Mrs. 
Lyons ; but I appreciated it. 

I was almost delirious when midnight 
came, and Jack was still missing. The 
Colonel regretted the purchase of that bi- 
cycle, but it was indeed too late. Mrs. 

198 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


Lyons had fallen asleep in her chair, and 
Mr. Lafavonr was keeping vigil in the big 
tower at the top of the house. Several 
times he came down to inform us of a 
possible figure in the distance, but it was 
too dark and stormy to see anything 
clearly. One o’clock came, and then two. 
The Colonel was almost asleep at the win- 
dow, when something on the piazza startled 
us. There was a heavy thud, a scuffling of 
feet, an unmerciful pull at the bell, and 
Jack had come. 

He walked in without saying a word, 
dragging behind him a few remnants of 
a wheel, which he carefully tucked away 
in the hall closet. few bolts lost, 

that’s all,” he said, as he locked it up with 
an air of proprietorship, and put the key in 
his pocket. 

Jack Elliott, where have you been since 
four o’clock yesterday morning?” Mrs. Lyons 
asked, eying him critically. ‘‘I wouldn’t 
have knoVn you if your sister hadn’t ad- 
mitted you. I suppose it’s you, though ?” 

199 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Yes’m, it’s me/’ said Jack. I’ve been 
to the century race.” And then, turning, he 
added in a whisper to me : “ Ain’t you got 
anything for a feller to eat ? I’m starved.” 

The Colonel overheard it and laughed. 
^^I’ll get his supper,” he said. ^‘Mrs. 
Powers said she’d leave it on the stove for 
him. You run up, Jack, and get your clothes 
off, and I’ll be there as soon as you are.” 

The boy obeyed, without thanks or con- 
sideration for our anxiety. 

Mr. Lafavour was coming down, when 
he met him. Hul-lo, old fellow,” he 
exclaimed. I hardly recognized you. 
You look like a regular ^ up-to-dater.’ 
How did the race come off ? and let’s see 
the medal.” 

Jack never suspected any hidden knowl- 
edge. First rate,” he said ; but I’m 
just soaked. I want to get upstairs.” 

^^And I want to see that medal you’ve 
been showing to every one,” persisted Mr. 
Lafavour. 

^^I haven’t been showing any,” Jack 
200 


THE CENTURY RACE. 


said, for I didn’t get one. I could have, 
if some sneak hadn’t gone and thrown a 
whole package of tacks in front of me. 
I was ahead the whole time, until my 
tires got punctured. Anyway, I don’t 
care. I just went for the fun of it.” 

‘‘And came in where, at the finish?” 
persisted his tormentor. 

“Third,” cried Jack, as he gained his 
liberty. 

Mrs. Lyons frowned, but the rest of us 
laughed. 

“ He surely ought to have won the third 
prize then,” suggested Mr. Lafavour, as he 
let the Colonel pass him, overburdened with 
dainties. 

“ Certainly,” confirmed the Colonel. 
“ Jack, you certainly won something 
then,” he said, as he joined him. 

Jack frowned. “Well, to tell you the 
truth. Colonel,” he said, “ I did win a prize, 
but I didn’t know, until the race was over, 
that I wasn’t riding with gentlemen. They 
were a whole pack of hlack skins'' 

201 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


You amaze me,” exclaimed the Colonel. 

Then they cheated you out of your prize 
entirely ? ” he said sympathetically. 

Jack nodded an affirmative. You bet 
they did,” said he. 

It is hardly necessary to add that the 
morning papers differed widely from Jack’s 
report of the race, to which, however, he 
still clung, despite any contradictions from 
the press ; so to this day his whereabouts 
and adventures of that day are still un- 
known to us, and Heaven and Jack alone 
hold the record. 


202 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


REHEARSALS. 

rriHE Colonel knew of it, Mrs. Lyons had 
suspected it, and Mr. Lafavour had 
dreamt of it, but I never had. 

Mr. Pitchorloser was the first to discover 
it, and brought it as news to me, when he 
asked for particulars. Particulars of some- 
thing that I was ignorant of — Jack’s 
concert. If Mr. Pitchorloser had gone to 
the Colonel for information, instead of to 
me, he would have found an encyclopaBdia 
of knowledge in regard to the above-men- 
tioned and approaching affair. “The blue 
posters are everywhere,” Mr. Pitchorloser 
informed me, when he had learned of my 
ignorance in the matter. “ I passed some 
fifteen or twenty, on the way from Hobart. 
Great, big, noticeable affairs,” he explained, 
203 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 

‘^with large white lettering. You couldn’t 
help seeing them.” 

No, I could truthfully say I had not seen 
them ; and only when a small and freckled- 
faced boy added one to the side of the 
barn, did I see the first one. 

BIG ENTERTAINMENT 

IN AID OF 

THE CHILDREN’S HOME. 


Under the Auspices of Grace Episcopal Church. 

Saturday Evening, Sept. 5 th, at Stamford Hall. 


Miss Leonora Marsh, of Stamford, will render 
Favourite Selections. 

Mr. Perry Pierce will play. 

Master John Van Rensselaer Crowninshield Elliott, 
of New York, will give Inimitable Impersonation of 
Paderewski, Talmaqe, Irvinq, and Others. 

Scene from “Faust" and “Carmen" given by 
Special Artists. 

Solos, by Master Elliott, The Boy de Reszke, 
and Other Entertainers. 


ADMISSION 151.00 

Ekseeved Seais fob Salk at Any Store in Vicinity. 

204 


REHEARSALS. 


I had hardly reached a conclusion in the 
matter, when the boy de Reszke ” came in 
sight. 

He had a large brown-covered package 
in his hand, which bore the unmistakable 
evidence of an express company’s handling. 

I’ve got my wigs, Colonel,” he said, as he 
joined the latter. ‘‘ They just came in from 
New York about ten minutes ago.” 

All there, I suppose?” said the Colonel, 
as the two retreated to the rear of the hall, 
where they could talk in silence. 

The Colonel unfastened the string, and 
Jack drew off the cover. They had agreed 
to be silent on the subject, but the sight of 
the contents aroused Jack’s enthusiasm 
beyond control. Colonel,” he cried, 
‘^just look, Paderewski’s wig. Isn’t it 
perfect ? ” and he had put it on before the 
Colonel could stop him. 

Jack, don’t let any one see that before 
the entertainment,” he exclaimed, but Jack 
was a memory. 

Out on the piazza he flew, dodging every 
205 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


one as he went. Mr. Pitchorloser, who was 
dozing in the shade at the side of the house, 
awakened from his reverie with a start. 
He felt nervously for his glasses, and put 
them on. Jack was dancing wildly within 
two feet of him, and the old gejitleman, 
failing to recognize the strange object before 
him, quickly retired. 

Jack was overjoyed. He pulled the wig 
down over his eyes^ and started for the 
house. Mrs. Lyons was just coming out, 
and while certain facial manifestations 
showed that she was for the moment 
startled, it was evident that she knew him. 

am not at all frightened, Jack,” she 
said indignantly. My seeming appearance 
of horror is but pity for you. I am grieved 
that you possess no respect for yourself, no 
self-esteem nor dignity.” 

Jack looked abashed. I’m Paderewski,” 
he said, as he moved the wig to one side, 
which gave him a still more grotesque ap- 
pearance. This wig is just like Paderew- 
ski’s,” he continued, removing it. Every 
206 


REHEARSALS. 


hair is an exact imitation. Isn’t it^ Colo- 
nel ? ” he exclaimed, turning to that gen- 
tleman, who was in hearing. 

I think so. I — I am told so,” he stam- 
mered, as his wife’s cold, steely eyes were 
turned upon him. 

^^Do you encourage these performances?” 
she asked haughtily. I may add that they 
are undignified and uninteresting.” 

That is one of the wigs for Jack’s en- 
tertainment,” he ventured, putting it back 
into the box lest it be disturbed. It’ll 
look all right when he has the whole cos- 
tume on.” 

‘‘All righty probably to yourself,” she 
added. It is very unlikely that the 
church will give countenance to anything 
like that.” 

‘^I’m getting this affair up,” Jack cried, 
^^and it’s going to be a darn nice one.” 
He would have said more if the Colonel 
hadn’t lured him away. “ Is the Talmage 
wig in there, and Irving’s ? ” 

“ Everything,” said the Colonel. “ Come 
207 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


up in your room, and you can try them 
on.” Jack slipped a friendly arm through 
the Colonel’s, and they were soon happy 
elsewhere. 

When I joined them later. Jack, in the 
impersonation of Irving, as Becket,” stood 
on a stool before the mirror. 

The Colonel was admiring him from a 
short distance, critically and artistically. In 
his hand he held a small book of plates ” 
illustrating and describing in every detail 
the parts that Jack was to personate. It 
was a book for amateurs, and one easily 
understood. Jack watched my movements 
in the glass, and the Colonel, silently, from 
where he stood. 

Well, how do you like it ? ” the boy said, 
at last. Great, isn’t it ? ” 

“Yes, you look remarkably well,” I re- 
plied ; “ my only fear. Jack, is that you will 
fail in imitating so great and distinguished 
an actor.” 

“ Go along ! haven’t I seen Irving act ?” 
exclaimed Jack. “ You wouldn’t know but 
208 



Jack 


AS Becket stood on a stool before the mirror 




REHEARSALS. 


that I was Irving, if you should see me do 
the part. Can’t I do it as well as he can, 
Colonel ? ” he said, turning round for his 
adulation. 

“ If it were not for the disparity in their 
size, I should hardly detect any difference, 
and I have seen Irving play more than 
once.” 

You said about fifteen times, didn’t 
you ? ” said Jack, anxious for me to realize 
the greatness of his powers. 

The Colonel paused for a moment. It 
must be as many as fifteen times,” he 
said slowly. ^‘1 remember I saw him as 
^Becket’ five times.” 

And I do it just as well, you said ; 
didn’t you, Colonel ? ” 

The Colonel was aware of my amusement 
and disbelief in the likeness of Jack to the 
great actor. It disturbed him, I feared, and 
I regretted my inability to please. ^^Of 
course. Colonel,” I explained, ‘^as I have 
never had the pleasure of seeing Jack play, 
I am no judge of what may be possible. To 
p 209 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


those that have seen the artists whom Jack 
is to impersonate he will hardly, I fear, 
be acceptable. To strangers, it will be a 
novelty.” 

We’re not going to have any ^ way-backs’ 
or ^ grass-blades ’ there, thank you,” said J ack, 
^ strangers,’ as you call them. It’s going to 
be jammed full of ‘ big-bugs,’ that have seen 
a sight more famous things than you have, 
and it’s going to be a big ‘ go’ with them all.” 

I would stake every cent I possess on 
the entertainment,” said the Colonel, so 
confident am I of its success.” 

What Mrs. Lyons’s impressions of the 
approaching entertainment were, no one 
ever knew. She never referred to it in 
any way, or took part in any conversation 
that might lead to the subject. If she had 
faith in it, she was certainly not demonstra- 
tive, and all were convinced that she knew 
everything in regard to it. I never spoke 
to Mrs. Lyons on the subject, though I con- 
fess I did ask the Colonel if she ever referred 
to it. 


210 


REHEARSALS. 


Oh, no, no,’’ he replied. Silence is 
much more to be desired than interference. 
Get her determination and will against it, 
and I’ll have to give it up.” 

You don’t mean that if Mrs. Lyons 
demanded it, you’d come down from the 
mountain, when you have almost reached 
the summit,” exclaimed Mr. Lafavour, with 
a good-natured laugh. Jack, as the star, 
surely means success.” 

Quite true,” said the Colonel ; I know 
that myself. I understand the boy thor- 
oughly, and failure on his part is impos- 
sible.” 

But you would give it up, should 
Mrs. Lyons interfere?” again suggested 
Mr. Lafavour. 

suppose so,” said the Colonel, 
suppose so. Women are so positive in their 
opinions and determinations, there is no 
such thing as ever getting ahead of them. 
A woman’s will is like a mighty fortress — ” 

Where men retreat in time of war,” 
exclaimed Mrs. Lyons, as she came within 
211 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


hearing. Women are the undecorated and 
unacknowledged rulers of the world, and to 
them men owe their lives and successes. 
Men are often the visible defenders of the 
fort, either home or country, when it is the 
invisible woman's powder and brains which 
has brought him the honour." 

The Colonel didn’t hear this last. He 
disappeared, when none was prepared for it. 

Mrs. Lyons evidently didn’t notice his 
departure, for she looked surprised when 
she turned around to find him gone. How 
some men do run when their intellect is 
overshadowed,’’ she said. Ah, he is with 
Jack. I can hear them upstairs, evidently 
rehearsing the balcony scene from ^ Romeo 
and Juliet.’ Men do so enjoy masquerad- 
ing, even old age is no barrier. They burn 
the lamp of youth until the flame flickers 
from lack of oil, and then they join youths 
whose lamps are in their morning bright- 
ness, that none may perceive that their 
own lamp has gone out. Like as in a 
chandelier, one never notices if one jet is 
212 


REHEAESALS. 


unlit, if it is amidst and as one of the 
brilliant company/' 

Poor, dear Colonel, how hurt he would 
have been to have heard her ! His interest 
in Jack we all so heartily appreciated and 
admired, and so did Mrs. Lyons when 
theatricals were not to the fore. 

Every one appeared interested in the 
approaching entertainment, and day by day 
it seemed to grow more important in the 
affairs and talk of Stamford and the neigh- 
bouring towns. 

I read the posters over with more anxiety 
now, when I realized that it was a near 
approaching reality, than when I thought 
it only a dream and fancy of the Colonel's 
and Jack's. 

I did begin to consider the affair seriously 
when the rector of Grace Church gave it 
out as his important notice for two suc- 
ceeding Sundays, but I didn't question Jack 
further on his long-dormant dramatic abil- 
ity. True, I had never seen any display 
of it before, but the Colonel was positive of 
213 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Jack’s success, and one could always lean 
with serenity on a staff that the Colonel 
recommended. 

As I (unfortunately) had once said that 
I thought him incapable of acting to satis- 
faction the roles he had chosen, he never 
allowed me another opportunity of wit- 
nessing, possibly to condemn, a second 
rehearsal. 

Far into the night these rehearsals often 
continued. None of the boarders com- 
plained of them, and it is possible that they 
slept through them all. Jack was always 
fortunate. It often seemed to me that he 
was rushing in where angels feared to 
tread. 

A better boy than Jack would, I’m sure, 
never have been allowed the liberties that 
my small brother was, who, despite his 
jokes and caprices, was thought to be 
remarkably clever. He could pull the cat’s 
tail, and she would forgive, and follow him 
the next day. He had only to smile on a 
woman, and she ever after thought him an 
214 


KEHEARSALS. 


angel. Jack could free himself from any 
blame, and make any one believe him if he 
set about it, though he has never yet hyp- 
notized Mrs. Lyons or myself. I was much 
afraid that Jack’s diplomacy and tact had 
won the Colonel over into believing in his 
genius ; for Jack could talk people into 
believing black was white if he had a 
purpose in doing so. 

Whether he was shamming genius, or 
was a true child of art, I failed to deter- 
mine from the stray words I could catch 
when he was rehearsing. I can remember, 
as if but yesterday, the look of satisfaction 
on the Colonel’s face as he entered the 
dining room one evening, after a day spent 
in drilling. They both looked warm, and 
Jack looked very tired. The great day of 
days was now but a day or two distant, 
and the fast-approaching time only brought 
increasing happiness and encouragement to 
the Colonel. He acted like a bottle of 
champagne with the cork slipping out, 
so overflowing was he with the enthusiastic 
215 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


surprise which he was confident that Jack 
and he had planned. 

Mr. Pitchorloser’s loss of hearing did not 
prevent him from being an interested ob- 
server of the silent game which was being 
played out before us. The Colonel and 
Jack were the cynosure of admiring eyes, 
though neither of them spoke, or imparted 
any information, either by look or deed. 
Twice Mrs. Lyons caught Jack in the act 
of pinching the Colonel’s arm, and twice 
that lady prevented it by an icy look. 
Whether these were signs whereby their 
hearts were understood, or merely as a 
means to provoke laughter, were enigmas 
which remained unsolved by the onlookers. 
Once when the Colonel was looking at Jack, 
I saw the boy roll his eyes round, in the 
imitation of one of his characters, which 
caused a painfully comical smile to cross 
his elderly friend’s face. He reached out a 
foot to touch Jack’s under the table, and 
unfortunately landed that offending mem- 
ber on the French kid of Mrs. Lyons’s boot, 
216 


EEHEARSALS. 


who promptly withdrew it, with a scornful 
glance at the Colonel. Jack grinned, but I 
sympathized with the latter. 

Mr. Pitchorloser, thinking that every 
one's mind was upon the entertainment, 
and that we were discussing it, whispered 
over to the Colonel : Don't let Mrs. Lyons 
discourage you, my friend, don't let her," 
he said. You hold the winning card," 
pointing to Jack. 

Mrs. Lyons bowed. “We were not dis- 
cussing the ^ game ' that you refer to, Mr. 
Pitchorloser. This was a game of panto- 
mime," she said, “where the ^winning 
card,' as you call it, failed to win. I, my 
friend, have taken all the tricks." 


217 


CHAPTER XXV. 


jack’s great success. 

T he night of September the fifth was a 
superb one. The moon was shining 
clear and bright, and lighted up gloriously 
the country road leading to Stamford. 
Jack was radiant with happiness. He 
ate but little supper, so great was his 
desire to be ofi. His face shone with all 
the light of his magnetism. He was a 
pretty boy; he had lovely eyes when he 
wasn’t screwing them all up with dissatis- 
faction. To-night they were as wide open 
and as bright as two beautiful stars. His 
round, plump face was fiushed with expect- 
ancy and excitement. Dimples that I 
thought lost appeared again with all the 
fascination of his dear babyhood. He had 
on an attractive sailor suit, with a broad, 
deep collar. It was cream-coloured fiannel, 
218 


JACK’S GREAT SUCCESS. 


simple and charming. His well-shaped 
legs and feet, in black silk hose and small, 
pointed ties, were faultless to gaze upon. 
Mrs. Lyons thought his black velvet suit 
more appropriate for the occasion, but Jack 
was more at ease in the simpler one, and 
he looked better in it. I felt a trifle timid, 
I confess, when it was time for Jack to 
leave. The Colonel, of course, was to 
go with him, for he understood every part 
of the make-up,” down to the pins. He 
assured us of grand success to the very 
last. He was confident. He had seen the 
rehearsals ; what more could we desire ? 

But if Jack should forget his part,” I 
suggested, or stammer, or — or do some- 
thing foolish ? ” 

The Colonel was disgusted at my opinion 
of the boy. ^^He has the best conception 
of those characters that IVe ever seen,” 
he said. ^^As to forgetting, or stammer- 
ing, it’s not in him.” 

In our anxiety (Mrs. Lyons’s and mine) 
about the famous characters, our thoughts 
219 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


never once suggested the singing ” so 
munificently advertised. Mrs. Lyons had 
forgotten it as entirely as I had. 

Jack is to sing to-night, so I hear/’ said 
Mr. Pitchorloser, bowing, as he joined us. 

I suppose we shall leave now, in a short 
time. The road’s blocked with carriages 
already. I fancy, as Jack said, this part 
of the world will be seen at her best 
to-night.” 

We are too anxious to be happy, Mr. 
Pitchorloser,” said Mrs. Lyons. We are 
very much disturbed.” 

Mr. Pitchorloser evidently did not catch 
the meaning of her words. am as 

anxious to be ofi as you are,” he returned, 
as he moved toward the door impatiently. 

^^As the affair commences at eight, I 
should think that fifteen minutes would 
give us ample time to reach there,” said 
Mrs. Lyons. It’s almost that now. I’ll 
get my things on, so as not to keep Sambo 
waiting. That horse never will stand still 
a moment,” she continued, and if he is 
220 


JACK’S GREAT SUCCESS. 


kept waiting he makes up the lost time on 
the road, and that is simply fearful. Oh, 
I wouldn’t own such an animal,” she said, 
as she reached the stairs. He is a dread- 
ful, dreadful creature.” 

Mr. Lafavour had overheard Sambo’s 
denunciation, coming as he had from 
the stable, where the dreadful crea- 
ture ” was being harnessed. “ Mrs. Lyons 
had better make haste, then,” he said, 
laughing, ^^for Sambo is in high feather 
to-night. He’s a splendid animal, well 
trained and obedient. Why, he’ll do any- 
thing for me. Mrs. Lyons always seems to 
have a peculiar influence over him. Just 
let Sambo’s eyes rest on her, and he makes 
for destruction. I really think the horse 
knows her dislike for him.” 

Mrs. Lyons was not ready when Sambo 
was. He was led up to the house and 
tied. Mr. Lafavour and I were ready, and 
got in the carriage to wait for her. Three 
minutes passed before Mrs. Lyons came in 
sight. She had on an entirely new black 
221 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


silk, and on her head, set decidedly back of 
her pompadour, was a bonnet made of point- 
lace butterflies, and red roses, and she 
looked very distinguished. But, despite all 
her elegance and finery, the horse knew her. 
He gave one rear, a defiant toss of his proud 
head at having waited for her, backed the 
carriage into the stoop, and would have 
smashed it into atoms had not Mr. Lafavour 
jumped out and seized the bridle. He didn’t 
dare to whisper any loving words to the 
horse in the presence — or rather, in the 
sight — of Mrs. Lyons, for she was quite safe 
in the house with the doors between them. 

You’re not expecting me to come, I 
hope ?” she said, opening the door just far 
enough to be heard and not hurt. 
wouldn’t get into that ^death-trap’ again, 
if all the gold of the earth was offered 
me.” Then she closed the door again. 

Mr. Lafavour looked annoyed. ^^Then 
Jim will have to harness up the ^ snail,’ ” 
he said. We’ll probably reach Stamford 
by daybreak.” 


222 


JACK'S GREAT SUCCESS. 


He was untying the horse when Mrs. 
Lyons again remonstrated. There’s no 
use waiting, Mr. Lafavour; I have said no, 
and I mean it,” she said, with decision, as 
she again retired to safety. 

get Eternity,” he replied, giving 
Sambo a sly caress; “poor old fellow! 
‘where there’s a will, there’s a woman.’ 
Here, Jim, hurry and hitch up Eternity, 
Mrs. Lyons won’t ride behind this horse.” 

Mr. Lafavour came impatiently toward 
the house, and sat down on the stoop. 
Jim, leading a slow but faithful-looking 
drab animal, soon appeared in sight. It 
was a thing more of the past than of the 
present. Mr. Lafavour thoughtlessly said 
to me that Mrs. Lyons’s ideas were too 
antiquated for up-to-date things to suit 
her. I hardly agreed with him there, 
for Mrs. Lyons’s ideas of clothes were 
often creations for envy. 

Mr. Lafavour helped her into the car- 
riage, and crawled in slowly himself beside 
the driver. 


223 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


‘‘Now I feel at ease/’ said Mrs. Lyons, 
leaning back with an air of comfort. “ This 
horse is always a great favourite of mine. 
What is his name, Mr. Lafavour, may I ask ?” 

“Eternity,” was the reply; at which 
Mrs. Lyons looked very grim and disagree- 
able. 

“ Eternity ” came to an end at a quarter- 
past eight, and we found ourselves then 
nearly a square from the hall. The horse 
couldn’t move another step. The street 
was lined with carriages, and the crowd so 
dense, that it was with the greatest diffi- 
culty we made our way through. 

The police were in evidence for the first 
or second time in the history of Stamford, 
and made matters much worse for their 
presence. 

“ There must be a wedding or reception 
near here,” said Mrs. Lyons to me, as we 
reached the hall. 

“It’s for Jack’s entertainment,” cried 
Mr. Lafavour, from the rear. 

Mrs. Lyons stopped then and there. 

224 


JACK’S GREAT SUCCESS. 


This crowd is for whose entertainment ? 
she asked. 

Jack’s/’ said Mr. Lafavour again. It’s 
no surprise to me. I knew he would draw 
a crowd.” 

We pushed on, only to find the vestibule 
more crowded than the street. On the box- 
office window hung a similar sign to the one 
outside : — 

No More Seats. No Standing-Room.” 

but a few scalpers” contradicted that 
report at their own prices. 

Our box was on the right of the stage, 
next to the one occupied by the Italian Min- 
ister, who had several very distinguished 
people in his party. Opposite us were two 
prominent bishops of the church, with the 
rector of Grace Church, and several other 
well-known laymen. The other boxes were 
filled with people of prominence and beauty. 
The house itself was a scene of confusion. 
No one could be seen to be recognized in 
the crowd below us. It was a sea of faces. 

Q 225 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Half-past eight had gone, and the crowd 
was still surging in. Mrs. Lyons was mys- 
tified as to the attraction, and was impatient 
for the curtain to rise. She consulted her 
watch more than a dozen times a minute, 
and each time with a sigh and vain glance 
at the heavy red curtain. 

Isn’t it ever going to begin ? ” she 
asked Mr. Lafavour. What does this 
delay mean ? I wonder where the Colonel 
is ?” — but he was busy. 

It won’t begin imtil people are seated,” 
he said, as one usher called directions to 
another, and the crowd pressed on. 

Some one has got the wrong seat here. 
Move up, please,” shouted some one. Row 
K is farther back, sir, next to where 
that gentleman with the white hair is 
standing,” and in him we recognized the 
Colonel. 

He was escorting ladies to their seats 
with all the gallantry of youth, and no 
one in the house looked as distinguished as 
he did. His dress suit fitted him to per- 
226 


JACK’S GKEAT SUCCESS. 


fection. His figure never looked as erect 
as it did to-night. His old-time elegance 
the night had restored to him. I was 
admiring him from where I sat, and I 
noticed Mrs. Lyons’s eyes were in the same 
direction. “ I wish the Colonel might see 
himself as others see him,” she said. I 
think he would make himself less conspicu- 
ous, if he could.” 

Oh, Mrs. Lyons, the Colonel never looked 
handsomer than he does to-night,” I ex- 
claimed. There’s not a man in the 
house worthy to compare with him — not 
one.” 

Probably none that wish to,” retmned 
that lady, suppressing a smile of satisfac- 
tion. I wonder why he has taken 
the duties of usher upon him? — a very 
undignified position.” 

All the gentlemen are doing so,” I re- 
plied. There are not enough ushers to seat 
such a crowd. All the gentlemen are help- 
ing. Mr. Lafavour has just gone down, 
and the Italian Minister has long been 
227 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


engaged. If they didn't assist, the enter- 
tainment would never begin." 

Little by little the aisles were cleared 
and the people seated. The orchestra had 
been placed beneath the stage, so as to 
afford more seats. Chairs were being placed 
in the aisles, and gradually the house pre- 
sented a scene of orderly expectancy. 

In all this confusion and excitement, my 
thoughts never turned to Jack. I had 
forgotten him entirely. The music was 
just beginning when I stole away to Jack’s 
dressing-room. I expected to find him 
seated on a chair, nervous and excited, — 
perhaps cross, — but I was mistaken. Jack, 
as Paderewski," was seated on a high soap- 
box in one of the wings, the centre of 
attraction of a lot of pretty girls. He was 
biding his time with all the air and forget- 
fulness of a professional, and fearing to dis- 
turb such perfect peace, I returned to the 
box. 

Mr. Lafavour had resigned as usher, his 
services being no longer required, and was 
228 


JACK’S GEEAT SUCCESS. 


again at Mrs. Lyons’s side. The Colonel 
was just coming out as I entered, and was 
going to Jack. 

The orchestra was playing dreamily at 
that moment, and the bells in Stamford were 
just striking nine, when the curtain rose 
slowly. The rector of Grace Church intro- 
duced Miss Marsh, a most charming young 
girl of the parish, and one of great personal 
magnetism. After the first storm of ap- 
plause had died away, she sang De Koven’s 
song, Oh Promise Me,” and was enthusi- 
astically encored. Mr. Perry Pierce followed, 
another stranger to us, and then — Jack. 

How our courage failed us as the curtain 
rose, displaying a Steinway grand in a very 
large room. Jack appeared immediately 
from a wing, and bowed, as the pianist him- 
self does, by a peculiar downward jerk of 
the head. A shout went up, and the ap- 
plause was deafening. His wig, his gait, 
his whole make-up, was perfect. He took 
his seat at the immense instrument, with no 
self-consciousness save the nervous look of 
229 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


his model ; stretched out his arms, threw 
his head back, and struck a few chords. 
Then he raised his arms again and touched 
another chord, — still softer. 

The imitation was perfect. Another gener- 
ous round of applause rose from the enrap- 
tured audience. Jack appeared not to notice 
it. He ran his fingers all along the key- 
board, sounded a few more chords, and then 
ran back the same course. He then banged 
some notes which, although decidedly harsh 
to the ear, took the house by storm. Jack 
couldn’t finish, the applause was maddening. 
He came quickly to the front, gave another 
jerk of his head in acknowledgment, and 
disappeared. But the audience was not 
satisfied. They applauded unanimously, 
wildly, frantically. The house was enthu- 
siastic. 

Mrs. Lyons looked bored at their pecu- 
liar conduct,” but made no comment. The 
hall fairly shook with the applause. Jack, 
still confident and happy, responded, and 
bowed and bowed. The ladies rose and 
230 


JACK'S GREAT SUCCESS. 


pelted him with flowers, but they couldn’t 
get the miniature Paderewski” to play 
again. 

It’ll be too late to get everything in,” 
he explained to the Colonel, when the 
latter moved in behalf of the people. 
^^Just think, operas, and lots else com- 
ing.” Jack was disgusted, not pleased, 
with the enthusiasm. Mrs. Lyons thought 
Jack very obstinate in not responding to 
the encore ; not that she thought the per- 
formance very brilliant — far from it. She 
herself had never seen the great Pade- 
rewski, a good reason for her non-interest 
in the matter ; but the majority of the audi- 
ence had, and Jack’s imitation of him was 
considered faultless. 

Jack as Talmage ” followed Carmen ” 
at half-past ten. It was growing late, and 
Jack wanted to cut the performance out, 
but the audience wouldn’t hear of it. 
They began to applaud frantically, and at 
last Jack gave in. ^^It’s not giving the 
ladies any show at all to-night,” he said. 

231 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


^‘Miss Marsh has sung only once; it's a 
mean shame, it is." 

The Reverend Dr. Dawson announced 
Jack’s reasons for withdrawing, and the 
voice of the assembly broke out in dis- 
appointment. 

Give us the boy without anything 
else," some one cried, and that was sec- 
onded by a round of applause. He seemed 
to be the popular idol. The curtain rose 
and displayed the platform bleak and bare. 
For a moment I thought Jack intended 
to disappoint us, but it was not so. He 
startled us by rushing out of the wings 
at our side. For an instant he stood 
breathless before us, then, in a voice 
that thundered to the gallery dome, he 
cried : — 

For-ward to right of them.” 

He stopped, gazed into the unseen, and 
panted : — 

“ For-ward to left of them. 

Into the jaws of death, 

Rode the Six Hundred.” 

232 


JACK’S GREAT SUCCESS. 


It was even better than Paderewski, 
some said. Every line was well said and 
imitated. Jack had heard Dr. Talmage 
too many times not to remember him, 
and not a gesture of the great preacher’s 
was omitted. Several times he disappeared 
entirely from sight, only to be greeted with 
a wilder burst of enthusiasm when he re- 
appeared. 

I had never heard Jack recite in public 
before, and he did much better than most 
boys of his age do. There was scarcely 
a glimpse of the amateur in his work. 
On the stage he was graceful, and free 
from all consciousness or affectation. I 
was indeed proud of him. Several lines 
of Tennyson’s Charge of the Light Bri- 
gade ” had to be repeated, owing to popular 
demand, and they were given even better 
than the first. 

There was something about the boy that 
appealed to the people. Every ovation he 
received was hearty and sincere. 

A young lady from Hobart recited J ames 
233 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Whitcomb Riley’s “Life Story,” and then 
Jack came on as “Irving.” 

Jack was anxious for the audience to see 
the costume, but owing to his solos being 
last on the programme, he hardly dared to 
use his voice further as “ Becket ” ; so when 
the curtain went up. Jack, impersonating 
Sir Henry Irving, stood on a marble stair- 
case, the red glow of sunset shedding glory 
round his gray head. It was a beautiful 
picture indeed. He looked taller from the 
height above us, and he looked well. I 
wished Mrs. Lyons could have seen him, 
but she had gone to sleep. Several times 
the curtain was rung up for a final glimpse 
of him, and then darkness followed. 

Jack’s success was something for which I 
was wholly unprepared. Never once did a 
smile cross his face or any witchery light 
his eyes. He seemed to live the parts. A 
slight intermission followed, and then Mr. 
Pierce look his place at the piano, and the 
familiar ballad of “ Kathleen Mavourneen ” 
was recognized. 


234 


JACK^S GREAT SUCCESS. 


There was a momentary hush, and from 
the wings appeared not the impersonator 
of Paderewski, or Talmage, or Irving, but a 
small, smiling, every-day boy ” in a sailor 
suit of white. He advanced, bowed, and, 
stilling the applause, a clear pathetic voice 
rang out : — 

“ Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking, 

The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill. 

The lark from her light wing the bright dew is 
shaking, 

Kathleen Mavourneen, what, slumbering still ? ” 

A hush fell on the house. You could 
have heard a pin drop anywhere. The 
boy’s face was raised slightly, and the face 
was flushed as he sang on : — 

Oh, hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever ? 

Oh, hast thou forgotten this day we must part ? 

It may be for years, and it may be forever ; 

Oh, why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart ? 

Mavourneen, Mavourneen, my sad tears are falling. 

To think that from Erin and thee I must part. 

It may be for years, and it may be forever. 

Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart ? 

It may be for years, and it may be forever, — 

Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen?” 

235 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


De Reszke is no greater/' shouted a gen- 
tleman in front, and then the house rang 
again with enthusiasm. 

In the midst of it all, Jack bowed and 
retired. The entertainment was a thing of 
the past. Jack was the hero of the present. 
I never saw him look prettier than he did 
in the final encore when he was showered 
with roses. Jack, with his boy spirit, took 
up a handful of them and threw them into 
our box, and then the audience laughed 
again. 

Jack's flowers were magnificent, the 
Colonel’s horseshoe a dream of roses. 

Mrs. Lyons awoke to find the hall al- 
most empty, and the Colonel in waiting. 

Where’s Jack?" she asked. ‘^How 
long has the entertainment been over ? " 

About fifteen minutes," he said. One 
of the bishops wanted to take Jack home, 
so he went with them. I never saw such 
enthusiasm over any one before in my life. 
It's simply idolatry," he exclaimed. For 
the asking, that boy could own Stamford 
236 


JACK^S GEEAT SUCCESS. 


to-night. I’m not at all surprised at the 
success, for I expected it,” he said, as he 
helped us all into the carriage. 

I’ve had a very pleasant nap,” said Mrs. 
Lyons, heedless of the Colonel’s pleasure 
and enthusiasm, and I feel very much 
refreshed. The entertainment didn’t annoy 
me at all.” And as Jim started the horses 
she added, glancing out, ^^What a very 
beautiful night it is.” 


237 


CHAPTER XXYI. 


MES. POWERS’s NEW GIRL. 

P erhaps Mrs. Powers would have 
been more interested in the proceeds 
of Jack’s entertainment if Lucinda, her 
right-hand maid, hadn’t departed. Lucinda 
was like the corner-stone of the house, 
central beam, and all the pillars put 
together, when compared with the average 
girl of to-day. The girl was a treasure, 
and only the severe illness of her mother 
would ever have caused her to desert her 
post. But there was no alternative, she 
must go. Mrs. Powers wept and wor- 
ried, worried and wept. A house full 
of boarders, and Lucinda gone. We did 
not wonder, interested though she had been 
in the concert, that her thoughts were else- 
where. The proceeds of the concert had 
exceeded our fullest expectations. Fifteen 
238 


MRS. POWERS’S NEW GIRL. 


hundred dollars, all in one night. It was 
no wonder that Stamford was talking. The 
new wing to the home was no longer a wish 
or a fancy. It was a solid realization. The 
five hundred dollars so long collected and 
laid in the bank toward it was now to be 
put to use. Jack’s triumph and success 
was the topic of the day. Our mother 
had been sent press notices of his triumph, 
and our only fear was that they would not 
reach her before she left for home. She 
was expected to sail now in a week or two. 
The Colonel’s influence over Jack had been 
much to the latter’s advantage, and the 
change I felt sure my mother would notice. 

He was leaning up against the house, one 
morning shortly after, evidently waiting 
for some novel excitement to present itself ; 
but fortunately, or unfortunately, nothing 
occurred. The Colonel had gone to town 
on business, Mr. Lafavour was back in 
New York for a day or two, and Mrs. 
Lyons and I failed to amuse him. 

He was tired now of being flattered about 
239 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


the concert, and he would go out of his way 
rather than meet a person who was there. 
Jack was peculiar in some ways. We all 
are, the best of us; and Jack certainly was 
estimated with the very best at the present 
time. 

It was interesting to hear the Reverend 
Dr. Dawson eulogize him in church the 
Sunday after the entertainment, and the 
Sunday School superintendent do likewise 
at that afternoon session. It was with 
pleasure and triumph that they spoke of 
the new addition as the Elliott wing.” 
You would hardly have thought Jack any- 
thing in human form, so enthusiastic were 
they of his splendid work. But Jack had 
wearied of that sensation now. It didn’t 
interest him any more than if he had for- 
gotten it. It is likely, though, he had 
more confidence in himself and his abilities 
since then (if that were possible), but it is 
an assured fact that his friends believed in 
him steadfastly, should he ever waver in his 
opinion. 


240 


MES. POWEES’S NEW GIEL. 


Jack had just joined us on the piazza, 
when Mrs. Powers returned from Stamford. 
She was a kind, sympathetic woman, and 
we all took as much interest in her affairs 
as she did in ours. She had been to the 
village to insert an advertisement in the 
evening paper for a girl. ^‘Not that I 
shall get suited,’’ she assured us, ^^for I 
don’t expect to ” — that decidedly. Lu- 
cinda will be at home six weeks or more, and 
I have got to have help, be who it may.” 

Jack looked uncommonly, suspiciously 
interested. I hope you’ll get a good girl,” 
said he. 

That evening Jack pondered a good deal 
over the advertisement. There was nothing 
unusual about it that I could see, yet it 
peculiarly amused Jack. The Colonel was 
reading the paper, and twice Jack borrowed 
it to re-read it. It was worded thus : — 

“ Wanted — A woman in a small boarding- 
house, to sweep, help waitress, and assist with 
mending. Must be industrious, sober, and bring 
good references. Apply between eleven a.m. 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


and five p.m. at Mrs. Powers’s, Stamford Road, 
near the Elms.” 

Jack and the Colonel were at backgam- 
mon, when the first applicant made her ap- 
pearance the next morning. Mrs. Powers 
had not lived in Stamford all her life with 
her eyes and ears closed, and looked much 
better pleased when her visitor was depart- 
ing, rather than arriving. Jack couldn't 
think why she should, but asked no ques- 
tions. The second applicant arrived at 
noon, only to be confused by Mrs. Powers’s 
knowledge of her. 

A good servant, but very intemperate,” 
Jack heard her say to the Colonel, when 
the woman had gone. 

“ I guess she’s waiting for another 
Lucinda,” he thought to himself, and 
that’s the reason no one suits.” But he 
didn’t say this, only made another move 
on the board. 

Jack went fishing in the afternoon, and 
wasn’t there to inspect and suspect later 
arrivals. 


242 


MES. POWEES’S NEW GIEL. 

Mrs. Lyons and I were, as usual, on the 
piazza, and naturally noticed the different 
types of humanity as they passed us. No, 
Mrs. Powers was not suited yet. She was 
in despair. The day going, and Lucinda’s 
place still unfilled. Lucinda’s place was a 
difiicult one to fill satisfactorily. She had 
lived there too long not to have fitted the 
shoes too well to her own feet for any one 
else to wear them with comfort. There 
were so many little things that Lucinda 
did without being asked. So many extra 
things that added to the boarders’ comfort, 
which any one but Lucinda would never 
have thought of. 

Mrs. Powers was cook, — her boarders 
would accept no other, — but it was 
Lucinda who noticed what the boarders 
liked best. It was she whom every one 
preferred to wait on their table, though 
another excellent waitress was kept. Mrs. 
Powers had but the three servants, Lucinda, 
Mary, and Jim, and she needed no others, 
though the house was a large one. Lucinda 
243 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


was thare, and her presence filled the place 
of a dozen women — so Mrs. Powers said. 
There was nothing she could fail in, and 
besides being an excellent housekeeper, she 
had the disposition of an angel. Mrs. 
Powers was meditating thus, when another 
woman came in sight. She was too dis- 
couraged to hope, or even be interested. 
Fate had been too unkind to her in depriv- 
ing her of Lucinda, for her to believe fur- 
ther in mercy or justice. 

The woman came nearer, and we noticed 
that she was elderly. She was quite short, 
well built, and almost quaint in appearance. 
Her clothes were plain but respectable, and 
as she glanced toward us, we noticed a 
very tired face beneath her old-fashioned 
poke-bonnet. Her gray hair was short, 
and curled becomingly round the face, 
which softened the features and gave her 
a look of intelligence. 

Mrs. Powers surveyed the woman criti- 
cally, as the latter drew nearer. The 
woman stopped a moment before the 
244 


MRS. POWERS’S NEW GIRL. 


house, glanced about her, and then slowly 
came up the stoop. Is this Mrs. 
Powers?’’ she asked, turning to that 
lady herself. 

“Yes, I am Mrs. Powers. Have you 
applied for my place ? First of all do you 
bring good references ? ” 

The woman replied in the affirmative. 
“ There’s not a lady or gintleman in Grace 
parish but what recommends me. I lived 
in Parson Dawson’s family over eighteen 
years, and in Mr. Lyn ton’s seven. That’s 
my last place, Mr. Lynton’s. He’s gone 
abroad, being my reason for leavin’.” 

Mrs. Powers looked interested. “ Splen- 
did references,” she said. “ Have you the 
written ones with you?” 

“No, ma’am, Mr. Lynton’s is to home, 
ma’am. I suppose you have heard tell of 
me. My name’s Eliza Holborn. Just ask 
the parson about me. I’m a regular attend- 
ant of his church, ma’am.” 

“No, I don’t remember hearing your 
name, Eliza, but Mr. Dawson’s reference is 
245 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


all that I desire. Now, about the work, — 
can you assist me with the cooking, help 
with the wash during the week, iron, and 
do plain sewing ? ’’ 

Yes, ma’am.’' 

And do it thoroughly, I hope ? ” 

As well as I know how, ma’am. Mrs. 
Lynton was very exactin’, and I suited her. 
I can’t say more ’an that, ma’am.” 

^^No, indeed,” exclaimed Mrs. Powers, 
with a gratified look. No one can go be- 
yond their capacities. And Eliza, about the 
table, — I keep a very excellent waitress, one 
who will assist you in everything ; but two 
girls are needed in the dining room. Can 
you wait carefully and well ? ” 

suited the parson’s wife,” was the 
woman’s reply. was cook there; but 
when Mrs. Parson Dawson gave a party- 
lunch, she made me wait on the table, even 
if things burnt up in the kitchen. She 
kinder got it into her head that I must 
wait or she couldn’t give the lunch, 
ma’am.” 


246 


MKS. PO^YERS’S NEW GIRL. 


see/’ said Mrs. Powers. ^^Then I 
understand that you cook well also. You 
spoke of being cook at the Dawsons’.” 

I dun’no, ma’am^ about how well I kin 
cook, ma’am. It suited the people where 
I lived. Mrs. Lynton said she wouldn’t 
ask for no better cook if the Quane of Eng- 
land be a-visitin’ her ; I don’t know whether 
she’s a judge, but she’s a fine lady, is Mrs. 
Lynton, ma’am.” 

^^Oh, yes, the first lady in Stamford,” 
exclaimed Mrs. Powers, ^^and a splendid 
housekeeper, so I’ve heard; but of course 
the work would naturally be slightly differ- 
ent in a boarding-house. You understand 
that?” 

The woman assented. Mrs. Powers 
looked overjoyed with her new-found treas- 
ure. Every inch of her face was smiling. 
^^Now, Eliza, I spoke of the plain sewing,” 
continued our hostess. ^^The sewing is not 
very particular work, but work that takes 
time. Did you ever sew in the places where 
you have been employed ? ” 

247 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Yes, ma’am — plain sewin’.” 

^^Very well; I suppose, Eliza, you are 
industrious, sober, a good manager, eco- 
nomical, and an early riser, quick in your 
movements, and thorough ? ” 

The woman nodded an affirmative. 

Very good,” exclaimed Mrs. Powers, 
believing that another Lucinda stood before 
her. 

I am glad that you are quick,” she said. 

I abhor slowness, and besides, in a board- 
ing-house, there are many extra steps to be 
taken ; little things to be done from morn 
till night, I suppose you realize that?” 

^^Ye-es, ma’am.” 

But not difficult,” interrupted her inter- 
rogator, fearing that her prize might be 
getting discouraged. Oh, no, nothing 
hard,” she repeated ; only little things 
take time, as of course you know ? ” 

Yes, ma’am.” 

The woman, not being asked to be seated, 
leaned against the railing of the piazza, and 
waited for Mrs. Powers to continue. This 
248 


MRS. POWERS’S NEW GIRL. 


she did in a moment. Well, now, Eliza, 
about all the extras that I may want you 
to do. Are you obliging ? ’’ 

^‘Yes, ma'am.*' 

And will willingly do all the odds and 
ends that you may find undone about the 
house ? " 

The odds, until I get to the end," said 
our visitor. 

Mrs. Powers looked annoyed, but made 
no comment. ‘^Then, Eliza, if you think 
the place would suit you. I'll show you your 
room, and the kitchen." 

^^Yes, ma'am," said the woman, as she 
followed her. 

Now, on Monday, Eliza, you must be up 
early to help Mary with the wash. I forgot 
to ask you if you were a good laundress ? " 
Eliza elevated her brows, and looked 
quizzically round the place. should 

rather have you see my work for yourself," 
said she. I don't like to speak for myself, 
ma'am, but I would like to ask you, if 
you've iver 'ave noticed Mrs. Lynton's lace 
249 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


curtains that he’s hangin’ at her windows, 
ma’am. They’re considered quite fine, 
they be.” 

I have,” exclaimed Mrs. Powers. You 
don’t mean to say that you ever have done 
them up ? I heard she had them made to 
order at Brussels.” 

Yes, ma’am, that’s so, ma’am, but they 
got a-kind o’ mussed cornin’, and Mrs. 
Lynton was a-bound I must do them up, so 
I did, ma’am. I was ’most afraid to, if you 
believe it,” — this anxiously. 

Why, you’re the finest laundress I ever 
heard of. Such work as that is a credit to 
you.” 

Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” said 
Eliza, bowing. 

Well, certainly I need ask no more of 
your ability in that line,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Powers, joyously. ^^You certainly are a 
perfect laundress.” 

So Mrs. Lynton said, ma’am,” said the 
woman, colouring slightly. 

Mrs. Powers was too confused and happy 
250 


MES. POWEES’S NEW GIEL. 


to remember all the details of each day’s 
work. She was trying to recall the most 
important work, when Eliza interrupted 
her : ’Scuse me, ma’am, but I’d like to 

be askin’ who does the sweepin’ here ? I 
prefer to do it alone. It’s kinder set of 
me,” and the woman looked foolish. 

Well, Lucinda and Mary generally did 
that together. You know there’s a good 
deal to do,” said Mrs. Powers. 

So I was thinkin’, but I’d like, ma’am, 
to do it all myself. I don’t care much to 
have help with my work, ’cause when I’m 
done, I have to go over the other girl’s 
work, too, ma’am, and that takes much 
longer. I’m very particular like,” said 
Eliza. 

Mrs. Lyons had just come in, and over- 
heard this last remark with satisfaction. 

Particular,” exclaimed that lady. ^^I am 
glad to hear that.” 

Yes, ma’am. Some say I’m too much 
so,” said Eliza, timidly, but I never can sit 
still while there’s a speck of dust round; 

251 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


and I never broke anything in my life. 
I put my heart in my work; I do.’’ 

Mrs. Powers almost embraced her. No 
work she suggested the girl refused. Even 
Lucinda, model housekeeper and brilliant 
light, was forgotten in the prospect of this 
new helpmate. 

She was going, and had never referred 
to the wages. It’s a matter of no conse- 
quence to me, ma’am. It’s the home,” 
said Eliza. You can give me whatever 
you plaze, as long as I have dacent clothes 
for Sunday, ma’am, and a workin’ dress or 
two, I’m satisfied. It’s the home I think 
of, ma’am, as I was saying before.” 

^^Well, I gave Lucinda sixteen dollars,” 
said Mrs. Powers ; but she had been with 
me so many years, and I don’t care to give 
that again.” 

Eight or ten will do for me, ma’am. I 
want you to see my work before we settle 
on that. It may be, I won’t suit you.” 

You certainly will,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Powers, following her to the door, and, as 
252 


MRS. POWERS’S NEW GIRL. 


she reached it, she said : I infer that I 
shall see you on Monday, then ? ” 

The woman reached the bottom of the 
steps before she replied: ^^You ought to 
have advertised for a horse, ma’am. I’m a 
human being. Good day to you, ma’am ; 
I’m through with you,” — and as the 
quaint little creature waddled off, Mrs. 
Powers recognized, in the walk, my 
brother Jack, and, with a look of anguish 
and disappointment, turned away. 


253 


CHAPTER XXYII. 


DABS OF PAINT. 

W E all felt more at ease when the Colo- 
nel had sent Jack’s wigs and useful 
make-up back to New York. For while 
they were in his care we were never sure 
what next disguise Jack would deceive us 
with, since the visit of the respectable Eliza 
Holborn from the Lyntons’. On several 
occasions did Mrs. Powers feed ^^sons of 
rest,” because she thought she detected 
some likeness to Jack. A book agent got in, 
and departed with several cash orders from 
the boarders, so confident were we of her dis- 
guise, and the return, later, of our money. 

But Jack did not deceive us again, though 
he kept us for a week in the state of expect- 
ancy. There was never a stranger called 
at the house but that aroused Mrs. Lyons’s 
suspicions. Not that she thought Jack’s 

251 


DABS OF PAINT. 


disguise very clever — far from it. It 
was an annoyance, and easily enough de^ 
tected if one was prepared for him ; though, 
as Mr. Lafavour said, that man must also 
be provided with the X-rays. 

Jack was very popular with the boarders. 
He had his way of doing things which was 
different from other people’s, and the eccen- 
tricity of the thing pleased them. He told 
stories of personal experiences that, for 
exaggeration, were rarely equalled, yet 
they were always listened to with re- 
spectful attention, and he could hold an 
audience for any length of time with his 
wonderful magnetism. 

Jack had grown surprisingly the past 
summer, not only physically, but mentally 
as well. He was a decided improvement 
on the boy my mother had left in my care. 
This latter I attributed to the splendid in- 
fluence and upright principles of our mutual 
friend. Colonel Montague Lyons, in justice 
to whom I must say, a better or truer gen- 
tleman never lived. 


255 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


The Colonel is no longer a young man. 
It has already been said that he was seventy 
when this was written. Not seventy years 
old, but seventy years young. Time has 
touched with but a brotherly caress this 
splendid man. He has touched him so 
gently, each succeeding year, that it is 
scarcely noticed, and to-day he is as brill- 
iant a man, as learned and ambitious a 
scholar, as he was forty years ago. The 
Colonel does not consider himself too 
old to learn more, so old that he knows 
everything — quite the reverse. The ablest 
speaker often speaks last. Mrs. Lyons is 
proud of him ; her general concealment of 
the fact is but her nature. No one ever 
walked with the Colonel, or talked with 
him, but was lifted, as it seemed, to that 
higher plane which is separated only from 
heaven by a thin veil, and is called per- 
fection. If all should feel the spell of his 
influence, why not little Jack, the friend, 
companion, and confidant of this honoured 
man ? They were seated together on the 
256 


DABS OF PAINT. 


morning of which I write, Jack on the arm 
of the chair, the Colonel reading to him 
short humorous tales by a popular author. 
The stories Mrs. Lyons and I missed, but 
not so the broad, interested look upon the 
listener’s face. Jack was well amused, 
which to the Colonel was the best reward 
and appreciation he could desire. The boy 
was supremely happy, so happy that his 
happiness overflowed, and happiness at best 
is short-lived. 

Around the corner of the house came a 
man, — a man whom Jack recognized, 
though a stranger to us. ‘^Well, young 
’un,” he cried out, do you expect to leave 
my barn the way you have? Do you 
expect me to finish it, or do you intend to 
leave it as an insult and disgrace to the 
town ? Because I was a-born and a-reared in 
the country you needn’t take me for one of 
your ^grass-blades.’ I stand no bull-dozing.” 

— I expect to finish it,” said Jack, 
nervously, as he endeavoured to put to- 
gether a satisfactory explaiiation of his 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


unseemly bad conduct. Yes, sir, I was 
starting when my grandfather ’’ — twist- 
ing a fore-finger round at the Colonel — 
‘^stopped me to read something to me^ I 
couldn’t get out of it, sir.” 

Jack,” interrupted Mrs. Lyons, ap- 
proaching him now from the rear, if 
you are at fault and to blame, do not put 
it on Colonel Lyons — whom you have 
recently termed as ^ grandfather.’ ” 

Jack turned crimson, and even the Colo- 
nel could not prevent Mrs. Lyons from con- 
tinuing. Don’t try to find an explanation. 
Jack,” she said. lie once told cannot 
be effaced. Colonel Lyons is not your 
grandfather, but a kind friend — and oh, 
such a friend,” she said, turning to the 
man, and he is not appreciated.” 

The man paid but slight attention to her, 
but stepped round to get in plainer view of 
poor, suffering Jack who stood behind her. 

^^Are ye coming?” said he. ^^If not. 
I’ll have you jailed for getting money 
under false pretences.” 

258 


DABS OF PAINT. 


This last startled me. Getting money 
under false pretences ? I cried. “ Oh, 
Jack, what have you been doing?’' 

‘‘ He promised to paint my barn for ten 
dollars,” replied the man. advertised 
for a man to paint it cheap, and among 
about fifty people that young ’un applied. 
He said he’d paint it for ten dollars in 
advance, and as the rest wanted sixty on, I 
gave the job to him. Yesterday morning 
he started, and did quite a bit ; but after 
dinner he didn’t show up again. I have 
come here, miss, for an explanation.” 

Oh, Jack,” I said, how could you do 
that ? Give the man his money hack at once.” 

Certainly,” said Mrs. Lyons ; return it 
at once.” 

Jack thrust his hands in his pockets and 
stepped back a pace or two. Haven’t got 
it,” he said, but I’ll finish the barn. I’ll 
come now. I’ll get an old pair of pants 
upstairs. You needn’t wait for me,” he 
motioned to the man. Go on, and I’ll be 
along in a minute.” 


259 


A TWENTIETH CENTUKY BOY. 


No, sir ; I am in no hurry, and I will 
wait for you,” and he seated himself on the 
piazza steps. He would have resumed his 
smoking if Mrs. Lyons hadn’t reminded 
him of the presence of ladies. 

Jack, who for the moment had gone, 
now returned. Can’t you advance me a 
little money?” he said softly, so as not to 
be overheard. That barn is a terror ; I’ll 
break my neck over it before I get through.” 

^^But where is the ten dollars he gave 
you?” I said. Surely that is not gone 
by to-day?” 

^^Yep, on tires for my wheel. Had to 
have ’em, mine had a dozen big holes in 
’em. Great big ones,” he said. And he 
illustrated the size with the fingers of his 
two hands touched lightly together. 
couldn’t get ’em fixed. I had to get new 
ones.” 

The Colonel, by this time, had learned 
all. He came toward us, and laid his 
tender, merciful hand down on Jack’s 
shoulder. Don’t make him explain any 
260 


DABS OF PAINT. 


more/’ he said kindly. He shall have 
the ten dollars to return to the man ; but 
why, when his wheel needed new tires, he 
didn’t come to me, I cannot ascertain.” 

^^Oh, no,” I interrupted. ^*1 will give 
Jack the money, but what I blame him 
for is attempting such a hazardous piece of 
work.” 

I had hardly given him the money, when 
the man confronted us. ‘‘Air ye coinin’ ? ” 
said he. 

“iVb,” exclaimed the Colonel. “He is 
not coming. Here is your money, and you 
can get the work done by some one else.” 

“ If I ever,” exclaimed the man, raising 
his hat and bowing low. “ If I ever heard 
of such cheek. Thank you, sir. You kin 
keep your money, and I’ll take the boy.” 

“ I may explain, my good sir,” was our 
friend’s reply, “ that this boy is a gentle- 
man’s son, a boy unaccustomed to work. 
Pray take the money and leave us in peace.” 

“ You kin hum the money,” cried the 
indignant man. “ I tell you I want that 
261 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


boy. His high parentage has got nothing 
to do with my barn. He agreed to do it, 
and the signed bargain is proof of my 
word.'’ 

^^But it's larger than I thought," said 
Jack. Colonel, it's a big feller." 

^^You saw the barn before you signed 
this contract," said the man. I haven't 
added one board or shingle to it since." 

Anyway, it's larger than I thought," 
said Jack, murmuring to himself. I was 
almost dead when I got through yesterday, 
and I hadn't done enough to see then," 
said he. I know, in fact I'm positive, if 
I go on with it I'll break my neck, sure. 
I'm so dizzy, up there on those ladders, I 
can’t stand straight." 

If you break your neck. I'll agree to 
let you off,” exclaimed the man, money 
and all. That’s generous, I’m sure," he 
said, turning to the much-aggrieved Colo- 
nel. As to those ladders, they're as safe 
as iron ones — not a rung that could break." 

But I get so dizzy on 'em,” said Jack, 
262 


DABS OF PAINT. 


turning his tearful eyes to the Colonel, in 
hopes of relief. 

That friend was touched indeed. What 
can I do to release this boy?” he asked. 

He is surely not able to accomplish such 
a task, much less undertake it. He is a 
little boy — a little boy, my friend.” 

Small ? you may think so, but large in 
my eyes. A boy half his size could do the 
work I have asked of him. He agreed to 
do it for ten dollars, if paid in advance. 
I gave it to him, and now he thinks he can 
throw up the job. No, no, sir. He has 
been paid for the work, and now I want to 
see it done.” 

Jack moved toward the steps. ‘^1 ex- 
pect it’ll take more than a year to do it,” 
he said, ^^and I’m sure to get killed.” 

We were all sorry for him, but what 
could we do? 

Jack started, the man close behind ; 
urging him on. Don’t hurry me,” said 
my brother. I can’t run, I’m sick.” 

Sick, he says,” said the Colonel, turning 
263 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


sorrowfully to us. How dreadful, to make 
a sick child work ! ” 

Even Mrs. Lyons was touched, for she let 
her fist down on the piazza railing with a 
vengeance. What a scoundrel for dear 
Jack to have fallen in with,” she said. 

A scoundrel ? ” said the Colonel. “ The 
word isn’t in the dictionary that even 
describes him. A villain is a merciful man 
to him.” 

“ Yes indeed,” repeated his wife. Poor 
Jack ! ” 

He was out of sight the next moment. 
He wasn’t hurrying. A snail could have 
beaten him, when he went round the bend. 

wish I hadn’t let Jack start,” ex- 
claimed the Colonel, but I was so afraid 
of a row, and I, having no legal authority 
over him, had no right to interfere.” 

But his sister surely had,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Lyons. 

^^The right, quite true, but not the power, 
to fight such a creature. A man such as 
he stands in but little awe of a woman.” 

264 


DABS OF PAINT. 


As he spoke, he put on his hat and drew 
on his duster (the Colonel always wore this 
when going a distance). I am going out 
to settle this affair,’^ he said. A contract 
signed by a boy of twelve is as worthless 
as without his signature. As to letting 
that boy paint that rascal’s barn at the risk 
of his life and strength, I will not. I 
shall consult a lawyer.” 

He was hardly off the steps, before 
Robert Lafavour came in sight. What’s 
Jack up to ? ” he sang out. He’s painting 
an immense barn about half a mile down, 
perched on the high roof. Why, it isn’t 
safe.” 

‘^What did he say to you,” I asked, 
‘‘ when you passed ? ” 

Oh, I didn’t speak. I was afraid, if he 
turned round, he’d lose his balance and fall 
off. Then you know he’s down there ? ” he 
said, coming up. 

Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Lyons, elevating her 
brows to a height of knowledge and mas- 
tery. That man is compelling him to do 
265 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


it, as Jack had agreed to on a contract. 
My husband, you met as you came in, is on 
the way to break it.’’ 

I am so glad,” was the jovial reply. 

But the man will not be,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Lyons. ^^He who expects to get a 
barn painted for ten dollars, evidently 
thought himself much in luck.” 

I should think so,” said Mr. Lafavour. 

It was hardly dinner-time when Jack 
came in sight again. This time he was in 
the more merciful hands of the Colonel. 
They were both smiling — the Colonel 
slightly ahead, flushed but triumphant. 

It’s all done,” said Jack, grinning as 
he joined us. ^^All done, and my neck’s 
unbroken.” 

But the man looked desperate enough 
to break yours and mine too, didn’t he, 
little Jack?” laughed the Colonel. 

And the constable’s into the bargain,” 
said Jack. 


266 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE NIGHT OF THE GKEAT FIRE. 

ACK ought to have his hat on, such a 



^ night as this/’ suggested Mrs. Lyons 
to me, as we walked together on the long 
piazza after tea. She stopped, and called my 
attention to the silent boy in front of us. 

He was standing on the road, leaning up 
against the fence. He’s been there 
almost half an hour,” she continued, just 
as he is, without hat or coat. I haven’t 
mentioned it before, for I hoped his own 
common-sense might assert itself ; but I find 
it does not.” 

She had hardly finished, before Jack 
turned. I’m going down the road,” he 
called up. I’ll be back in a second.” 

Before I could stop him, my small 
brother was beyond hearing. Mrs. Lyons, 
who with quick presence of mind had gone 


267 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 

for his hat, now returned, and waved it 
frantically to him in the road, but Jack 
turned not. Jim caught it from her and 
chased him, but in vain. 

I’ll be back in just a second. There’s 
something down there I want to see,” he 
called back to Jim, as he kept on running. 

I couldn’t catch him for the life o’ me,” 
the boy said apologetically, as he returned 
and handed the hat and coat to Mrs. 
Lyons. 

hope your life will never be put to 
such a test,” she replied indifferently, as 
she laid them down. You are the slowest 
boy of your age I have ever seen — the 
very slowest one.” 

Jim turned scarlet, and withdrew awk- 
wardly, he hardly knew in what direction 
to turn, to escape her further notice. He 
stumbled over a tree-stump as he went, and 
measured his length on the ground before 
her. 

“ It’s all done for effect,” sarcastically 
remarked Mrs. Lyons, as she turned her 
268 


THE NIGHT OF THE GREAT FIRE. 

chair. ‘‘ What a poor, worthless boy he is. 
I wish I had gone after Jack myself.” 

He was too far for any of us to reach 
him,” I returned brightly. ^^Jack has a 
way of covering a good deal of ground in 
very short time.” 

‘^And in very short notice,” said Mrs. 
Lyons. ‘^Who would ever have supposed 
that Jack would have gone away with no 
hat or coat on ? Oh, he is so reckless ! ” 
He’ll be back presently,” I said. ^^It 
is likely he^s gone after the Colonel.” 

Colonel Lyons went to Stamford to- 
night, not to Hobart, the way Jack went. 
You know very well he said he was going 
to Stamford.” 

Yes,” said I, meekly. 

Mrs. Lyons was unmistakably ruffled. 
She turned her chair round again, and faced 
the road. You see he’s not coming back, 
as he promised,” she said, as she turned to 
me. Oh, how well I know that boy 1 I 
understand his every move. Your twelve 
years’ experience with him has not given 
269 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


you the knowledge that my five months’ 
acquaintance has. I can see through him 
with my eyes closed.” 

I never had much to do with him until 
this summer/’ I replied; ^‘and at home Jack 
never stood in any awe of me. My great 
surprise is that he has minded me at all, 
since we came away.” 

You should have begun with him when 
he was born as you meant to hold out,” 
said Mrs. Lyons. you had made him 

obey you as soon as he was able to under- 
stand your authority, he would mind you 
now.” 

But my own age at that time,” I sug- 
gested, hardly offered much authority 
over any one. I was not six when Jack 
was born.” 

Mrs. Lyons started. never thought 
of it,” she said. Jack seems so small and 
dependent upon you that one hardly realizes 
the little difference in age. No wonder he 
doesn’t regard you with the same respect 
he shows his mother and aunt.” 

270 


THE NIGHT OF THE GREAT FIRE. 

Oh, he doesn’t mind at home, as you 
give him credit for,” said I. ^^He has a 
very indulgent mother. Jack has never 
been so good in his life as this summer, 
never!' 

What was he before?” said Mrs. Lyons, 
laughing. 

That’s left to your imagination,” I 
replied. 

I had hardly said this when Mr. Pitchor- 
loser aroused us with a scream. He came 
emit on the piazza, and started for the road 
on a run, removing his coat as he went. 

Sambo’s running away with the Colonel,” 
he cried out. I saw them coming from my 
bedroom window. Help, some one, help ! ” 

I rushed for Jim in my frenzy, and Mrs. 
Lyons clambered on to the piazza railing, 
to be sure of the alarm. 

True, the Colonel was approaching in 
mad haste. His linen duster was flying, 
like a flag, from the rear of Sambo. Mrs. 
Lyons uttered a shriek and rushed for the 
road. 


271 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


Mr. Pitchorloser, not anxious to risk his 
life, was doing an immense amount of 
screaming behind a very safe tree. Jim was 
dragged out, only to retreat in the sight of 
the peril. Mrs. Powers came out, waved 
her kind hands for help, and seeing she 
could be of no assistance, joined Mr. Pitch- 
orloser in his unearthly screams. 

Around the bend came Sambo, and in 
the buggy, the Colonel, holding on for life. 
His hat was gone, and his white hair flut- 
tered in the wind. 

Mrs. Lyons, at the risk of her life, rushed 
for the middle of the road, to do what we 
know not ; and Sambo, seeing her, excited 
though he was, dashed up the carriage- 
drive, wrecking the gate as he passed. 

Here he was stopped, not by kind hands, 
but by a fortunate fall ; for Sambo went 
headlong on the drive. Before he could 
rise, or do further damage, Mrs. Lyons had 
him fast. How she ever attempted to go 
near him, she never explained to us ; but 
under her small hand, some invisible power 
272 


THE NIGHT OF THE GREAT FIRE. 


asserted itself, until the Colonel could be 
helped out. He wasn’t trembling. He 
took off his duster and rolled it up quickly, 
so that Mrs. Lyons wouldn’t discover the 
absence of half of it. He would have got 
it inside safely if his wife hadn’t inter- 
rupted him. 

There is no use running away with 
that,” she said quickly. ‘^I saw its ruin 
before you took it off. I should imagine 
you would think more of your life, that has 
just been in the balance, than of that for- 
lorn, well-rid-of old duster.” 

Quite true, it is old,” the Colonel said, 
glad of no worse offence. I’ve worn it a 
great many times. Why, I bought it for 
my trip abroad last summer, and you know 
how long it has served since.” 

And care less,” said Mrs. Lyons. 
“What do you suppose that old duster 
has to do with me? Here you stand ex- 
plaining to me how long you have had that 
thing, as if I cared. Next you will tell me 
every place it has visited. I am anxious 
T 273 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


and waiting to hear of your recent peril, — 
how you intended to stop that wild beast, 
and what you ever took him out for, — that 
I want to know first of all.’’ 

Before he could reply to her numerous 
inquiries, she continued : I wonder how 
many times I have told you how unsafe 
that horse was, and that he would yet run 
away with you, and still you remained 
oblivious of my warnings, and played with 
that creature’s rage. Why, I wouldn’t ride 
behind him for the country’s gold.” 

^^You never said he’d run away with 
me,” expostulated the Colonel, wiping his 
forehead with an unusually large white silk 
handkerchief. 

Mrs. Lyons caught sight of that, and again 
remonstrated. Another of those immense 
handkerchiefs?” she cried. Didn’t you 
promise me when we were married that 
you’d never use another one? They are 
undignified, out of fashion, abominable. 
Where are those new ones? But first, I 
want to know how that wild horse came 
274 


THE NIGHT OF THE GKEAT FINE. 

to run away with you. Why don^t you 
speak, Colonel? You act so peculiarly. 
Didn’t you see how I was risking my life 
in attempting to stop that horse ? Didn’t 
you notice that no one else came to your 
rescue? Were you blind, or didn’t you 
care ? ” 

^^The horse started to run away when 
we crossed the railroad track,” said the 
Colonel, slowly. ^^He heard a whistle or 
something. I really don’t know what he 
did hear. By the way,” he said, turning 
to me, where is Jack?” 

<< Why, of course,” exclaimed Mrs. Lyons. 

Where is that boy ? I had utterly forgot- 
ten him in this foolish excitement. Just 
think,” she said, ^^out two hours without 
hat or coat. I’ll go and look down the 
road and see if I can see anything of him, 
though I don’t expect to,” she said, as she 
started. What Jack promises, and what 
I believe, are two different things — two 
entirely different things,” she said again. 

As she ^ood there, having finished her 
275 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


discussion with the Colonel, the old gentle- 
man again took out the o:ffending handker- 
chief, and wiped his forehead. What’s 
Mrs. Lyons so anxious about Jack for?” 
he asked. What has he been doing ? ” 

Oh, nothing,” I replied ; only he’s 
gone away with no hat or coat on. I don’t 
suppose he’s gone far.” 

Perhaps he went to the fire,” he sug- 
gested, as Mrs. Lyons again returned. 

To what fire ? ” exclaimed his wife. I 
see no fire.” 

There is one, nevertheless,” replied her 
husband, drawing up another chair for his 
feet. Quite a large fire, I heard.” 

^^In the name of goodness and mercy, 
where is this fire of yours ? Haven’t you 
made some mistake ? No engines have 
passed here. Where is it, anyway?” she 
inquired, all in one breath. Besides, how 
do you know to inform us so definitely of 
Jack’s whereabouts ? He didn’t go in your 
direction. He went toward Hobart.” 

^^And the fire’s down there,” he said 
276 


THE NIGHT OF THE GEEAT FIEE. 


languidly. the outskirts somewhere. 

The engines won’t pass on this road^ if they 
are called from Stamford. Of course I don’t 
know more than I heard.” 

^^And you didn’t hear as much as you 
pretend to know,” exclaimed Mrs. Lyons. 

This fire is an invention of your imagina- 
tion. Sambo has upset you completely.” 

I guess you’re correct,” said the Colonel. 

I always am,” she replied. 

Ten o’clock passed, and Jack failed to 
appear. Mrs. Lyons, though still express- 
ing firm doubts as to the fire, was heard to 
ask several men on the road, if the fire 
was out yet ? ” 

At no time, and from no one, could we 
learn where the fire really was, or what was 
burning. One man said some tenements; 
another, a factory. The Colonel had 
dropped off to sleep, and Mrs. Lyons 
wouldn’t gratify him, by awaking him, for 
what she had expressed non-belief in. 

Nevertheless, there was a fire, and it was 
quite certain that Jack was there. Another 
277 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


hour passed away, and Jack stayed away 
with it. Mrs. Lyons and I walked up and 
down the road until she declared it didn’t 
look respectable, and we went in. 

The Colonel awoke shortly afterward, 
and was confused at the state of affairs. 
^^That fire must be out by this time,” he 
said, rousing himself and drawing out his 
watch. It’s stopped. I suppose from the 
runaway. Anyway, it must be nearly mid- 
night.” 

My watch, not having been put to the 
strain that yours has, is still running. It 
is ten minutes to twelve.” 

The Colonel jumped up. ‘^1 think I’ll 
go to Hobart and see what has become of 
the boy,” he said quickly. ^^I think it’s 
very queer that he don’t return.” 

I am glad that you have at last arrived 
at my view of the situation,” replied Mrs. 
Lyons. I thought it was very queer some 
hours ago.” 

I should have prevented the Colonel from 
going had not a look from his wife re- 
278 


THE NIGHT OF THE GEEAT EIEE. 


strained me, as she rose, and helped him on 
with his ulster. 

Jim soon awakened Eternity ” from his 
night's rest, and, after hitching him to the 
family carryall, — a most old-fashioned 
vehicle, by the way, — drove out of the 
gate toward Hobart. They went quickly, 
and were soon lost to view in the darkness. 
Only now, at midnight, did unconquerable 
fear come over me. Every moment I had 
expected to see Jack flushed and happy, 
returning from the latest excitement. Jack 
adores fires, and this had been his first one 
all summer. It was no wonder that he had 
gone to it. 

At one o’clock several farm-wagons 
passed overburdened with vegetables for 
the trains, and then the milk-wagons. 

It was lone and dreary waiting for 
news, when sleep was almost overpower- 
ing. Twice I dozed, to be awakened by 
the creaking of Mrs. Lyons’s chair beside 
me. The Colonel ought to have been 
back some time ago,” said she, after a 
279 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


long silence. Did you know it was two 
o’clock?’’ 

Two ? ” I said, as I started up. Is it 
possible ? It doesn’t seem as if the Colonel 
had been gone so long.” 

Because you have been resting part of 
that time,” came her answer. ^^It seems 
to me the longest night of my life. My 
eyes are almost out of my head.” 

^‘You had better go up to bed,” I sug- 
gested, and let me wait for them.” 

^^Yes; it would be very kind to leave 
you here, not knowing what may have 
happened to Jack,” she replied. He may 
have lost his life in that fire, for all we 
know.” 

Oh, you don’t really think so ? ” I cried, 
springing toward her. ^^Poor little Jack, 
he is so venturesome.” 

I am prepared for anything,” said Mrs. 
Lyons. Nothing would be a surprise to 
me. We can’t do anything until we hear 
the particulars, and the Colonel seems to be 
a long time getting them.” 

280 


THE NIGHT OF THE GEEAT FIEE. 

Do you think he’s heard such dreadful 
news, that he doesn’t come back ?” I asked. 
Mrs. Lyons shook her head. 

All we can do is to wait,” she replied, 

and wait patiently.” 

With the first rays of daylight came the 
Colonel. The lumbering old vehicle came 
rattling in the gate, with ^‘Eternity” doz- 
ing at its head. 

I was asleep when they came, but Mrs. 
Lyons awakened me. The Colonel has 
come,” said she, “and Jack’s not with 
hink” 

“ Eternity ” had reached the house, with 
the Colonel, before I had roused myself suf- 
ficiently to realize it. He got out, threw 
the robes back into the carriage, and came 
toward us. “The fire is out,” said he, 
“and I have seen nothing of Jack. From 
what I learned I should judge that he had 
been at the fire, but no one has seen him 
since, not one person.” 

“ And you have been all this time get- 
ting that information,” inquired his wife, 
281 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


knowing that his poor sister and I were 
anxiously awaiting your return ? ’’ 

^^But I have been looking for him/' 
exclaimed the Colonel. Don't you sup- 
pose it has worried me? Why, I have 
searched everywhere for him. I’ve been 
to the police station, thinking, perhaps, he 
might have been injured. The constable 
has been given his description, and the 
firemen ; besides that, I have sent word to 
Stamford. I am almost wild about the 
boy,” he said. 

I was too overcome to utter a word, or 
to ofier assistance. I stood there, gazing 
at them both, wondering what dreadful 
disaster had terminated my care of Jack. 

The summer days were now going, and 
my mother and aunt were to sail from 
Southampton a week from Saturday. Oh, 
to think that the news of Jack's death 
must reach her on arrival ! He might 
have perished in the fire, offering up his 
life for others. Even the Colonel and 
Mrs. Lyons thought of this. What should 
282 


THE NIGHT OF THE GREAT FIRE. 


we do next to find him ? None of us could 
tell. Jim stood on the walk, hanging 
sleepily to the horse’s bridle, as he waited 
the Colonel’s next command. Once or 
twice he brushed off the mosquitoes which 
were annoying his charge ; but more often 
the horse did it himself. At last the 
Colonel turned to him, in the hopes of pos- 
sibly a new suggestion as to the where- 
abouts of Jack. 

Jim might have formed an excellent idea 
of the situation, though he had apparently 
showed but little interest in the matter. 

He opened his eyes quickly, as the Colonel 
addressed him. What do you think has 
become of little Jack, Jim, my boy?” he 
said, stroking the old horse as he spoke. 

Burnt up, sir,” he replied, glancing up. 

Burnt up ! ” exclaimed the Colonel. 
^^Do you think Jack perished in those 
tenements ? You did not mention this 
before. What suggested that to you, any- 
thing you heard ? ” 

No, sir, ’cept that the boy was there. 

283 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


Old man Connors said he seed him there, 
down in one of them cellers, and he ain't 
seen him since." 

Oh, Jim," I cried, starting toward him, 
that you should have said this ! " 

The boy moved backward, as if he feared 
we were about to assault him. I’m only 
telling what I heerd," he apologized. But 
further explanations were not necessary. 

Up the drive, looking a little ashamed at 
seeing us, but nevertheless, very bright, 
came Jack, still hatless, still without a coat. 
Mrs. Lyons pointed to him with a look that 
spoke more than words. The Colonel and 
I rushed to meet him. Hullo," he said. 

Been waiting up for me ? I’ve been to 
the fire." 

And since that?" said I. 

Oh, sitting on the steps of 0 ’Donovan’s 
grocery store," he replied, ^Halking to the 
constable and a fireman." 

‘^Talking to whom?" inquired Mrs. 
Lyons, as he came up the stoop, though 
she had well heard it all. 

281 


THE NIGHT OF THE GEEAT FIEE. 


The constable and a fireman/’ repeated 
Jack. And as he said it, he snatched up 
his hat and coat, and fled. 

But Mrs. Lyons had not waited for 
naught. She was already on foot, and fol- 
lowed quickly. Didn’t they tell you that 
the Colonel was looking everywhere for 
you ? ” she asked, as she reached the stairs. 

Those miserable men promised to look for 
you at once, and I don’t suppose they ever 
took one step toward it.” 

^^Nope,” floated back the answer from 
afar. Those men don’t trouble to hunt 
up hoysy nights of big fires.” 


285 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


FEOM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 


ELL, I’ll be glad to have my 



mother back again,” exclaimed 


Jack, as he sauntered from the dining 
room one day after dinner. ^^I never 
realized before what a mother was to a 
feller, until I had this experience without 
her.” He sighed heavily, and threw him- 
self into the first chair he encountered. 

Mrs. Lyons, who was seated on the piazza 
near him, heard his remarks, and glanced at 
him over her gold-rimmed eye-glasses. I’ve 
had an awful time, Mrs. Lyons,” Jack con- 
tinued. Six months without knowing 
what a dollar bill looked like.” 

A great many spend their money with- 
out ever looking at it,” said she. ^^I am 
sorry you are one of them.” 

^^But I ain’t,” exclaimed Jack. ^^I’ve 


286 


FEOM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 


been jewed out of every cent my mother 
sent over to me. I suppose she sent hun- 
dreds that I never got. Oh, well, she’ll 
hear of it,” he said, with feeling. 

I suppose so,” said Mrs. Lyons ; but I 
shall fervently hope that you will mention 
to her the many stores that must have pro- 
vided you with your every want, gratui- 
tously, all summer.” 

What do you mean by that ? ” said he. 

Everything,” said she. 

Jack looked somewhat abashed, but ar- 
gued no further. He sat there a moment 
longer, then rose, and went down the steps. 

<^I’m going to Stamford,” said Jack. 

I’ll be back when you see me.” 

^^If you’re going to Stamford, you had 
better wear your straw hat,” Mrs. Lyons 
suggested. ^^That bicycle cap has a dis- 
reputable appearance.” 

Straw hats have been called in,” said 
he. 

It’s a pity that that cap was forgotten,” 
Mrs. Lyons said, as he went out the gate. 

287 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


^‘It will be, I hope, before my mother 
gets in,” I said, coming out. The ques- 
tion is, when that may be. It is likely she 
has written, and the letter has not yet 
reached here.” 

Or has come to Jack,” interposed the 
Colonel, as he joined us. 

Hardly,” I replied. In my last letter 
from them, they expected to sail for home 
October the twelfth, which is to-morrow, 
but they promised to write definite arrange- 
ments later.” 

Then you do not know whether you 
are to meet them on arrival, or not ? ” said 
the Colonel. Mrs. Lyons and I leave for 
New York about the twenty-first.” 

You are to make New York your home 
then?” I exclaimed enthusiastically. ‘^I 
am so anxious for my mother to know 
you.” 

The Colonel bowed an acknowledgment, 
but Mrs. Lyons failed to smile. You did 
not for a moment suppose that I was to 
live in Trenton,” she said, — ^^a woman 
288 


FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 


who has lived in New York all the days of 
her life?’^ 

And where I shall spend the happiest 
years of my life/’ smilingly assented the 
Colonel. ^^It is a most delightful change 
to look forward to, and with little Jack but 
a square off. Why, I shall be regretting the 
many years gone, and the few left to me.” 
A look of sadness came upon his face; a 
face that was usually so bright. 

The afternoon passed away, and the trees 
put on their autumn foliage in the sunshine. 
Peace seemed to reign. The summer days 
drew to a close. Jack was tanned and well, 
a little taller, stouter, and more self-confi- 
dent than ever. My care of him would 
soon be over. I could hardly realize it. 

I was musing thus, when he came in 
sight. Not on wheel, or on foot, but 
curled up in a dejected-looking heap in a 
large wheelbarrow. A tall, angular-look- 
ing boy was toiling along with him, and 
Jack neither looked up nor spoke as they 
reached the house. “ He’s dead sick,” said 
u 289 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


the elder boy, glancing np to me, as he 
set down the load. I had to bring him 
home.’^ 

Jack never imcovered his face. Mrs. 
Lyons rose, and looked at him over the 
piazza railing. What's the matter ? " she 
asked. 

^‘Why, I suppose he's sick," exclaimed 
the Colonel, rushing from the house. So 
sick that he can't stand. I'll just take 
him up to bed, and send for a doctor." As 
he lifted him out he tmned his white little 
face toward us. Isn't he a sick child ? " 
he asked. 

For the moment I was as if paralyzed. 
The power of speech had entirely deserted 
me, but Mrs. Lyons asked the question that 
was in my mind. Has he been injured ? " 

The tall boy shook his head in the nega- 
tive. ‘^No, ma'am," said he. ^^Not as I 
heerd of." 

The Colonel had gone upstairs with Jack. 
Mrs. Powers had despatched Jim and Sambo 
for the doctor, and the boy had been paid, 
290 


FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 

and departed. I went to Jack. Not a 
word had he spoken, and all the time he 
was growing colder and colder. Mrs. 
Powers and I bathed his icy feet, but not a 
sign of returning warmth came to them. 
Was it possible, I thought, that a dreadful 
illness had come upon Jack? Even Mrs. 
Lyons failed to be comforting. 

The moments passed like long hours, be- 
fore Jim returned with a physician. It 
was not the one we desired, but neverthe- 
less he was welcome. He looked Jack 
over from head to foot, felt his head and 
pulse, and then gloomily shook his head. 

Whatever the trouble is, it has not yet 
developed,” he said. ^^Can you breathe 
easily?” he asked, turning to Jack. 

The boy shook his head sadly, and 
groaned. ^^No,” he gasped, as another 
chill seized him; hardly at all.” 

“H’m, h’m,” said the doctor. A very 
singular case. I cannot diagnose it. Has 
he been well all summer?” 

Perfectly,” exclaimed the Colonel. He 
291 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


was well three hours ago, when he went to 
Stamford.” 

H’m,” said the doctor again ; “ a very 
strange thing.” 

Jack turned over again. ‘‘ Oh, I wish I 
could die,” said he. 

Oh, no, you don’t,” I exclaimed heart- 
ily, taking his head on my lap, and sooth- 
ing the aching brow. Mother will be 
home now in a week, and you want to see 
her, don’t you. Jack ? ” 

Of course he does,” cried the Colonel. 

I know I do, and I haven’t had the hon- 
our and pleasure of knowing her twelve 
happy years.” 

^^No, I don’t,” said Jack, feebly; ^‘I’m 
too sick.” 

Goodie gracious, as if you weren’t going 
to he up in a day or two ! ” said his elderly 
friend, enthusiastically, though fear and 
anxiety were upon his face. 

I’m gone this time,” said the boy. I 
can’t breathe hardly at aU, now.” 

Mrs. Lyons rushed forward and lifted 
292 


FKOM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 


him up. Open both windows/’ she said 
to the Colonel, ‘^and let the air reach him.” 

The physician still stood immovable, and 
shook his wise head. 

The boy appeared to breathe more freely. 

Oh, I feel so awfully ! ” he said. 

Doctor,” said the Colonel, I appeal to 
you, as a man of experience, for superior 
knowledge. What can be done to relieve 
his suffering ? Surely, something must be 
done at once.” 

I know of nothing, sir, except to induce 
sleep. Sleep is a greater physician than I,” 
he exclaimed. It quiets much pain. I 
should advise darkening the room and 
leaving the patient.” 

To die, I suppose ? ” exclaimed Mrs. 
Lyons, excitedly. You look as if most of 
your patients found their only release in 
sleep — the sleep that hath no awakening,” 
she said sarcastically. 

Quite true, quite true,” said the physi- 
cian, unwittingly. I have been called to 
some very puzzling cases.” 

293 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 

^^And I will continue with this one/' 
politely interrupted Mrs. Lyons, as she 
opened the door. ^‘This boy is the only 
son of a widowed mother, and he cannot 
be a subject for experiment.'' 

The physician, mystified but silent, bowed 
himself out, as Mrs. Powers, breathless and 
excited, came to the door. 

just heard you had him here," she 
whispered, as he vanished, and I came up 
to tell you who he is. He's the new doctor 
down at Hobart, and he kills every one. An 
undertaker has taken the shop next to him, 
and he gets every case." 

Mrs. Lyons nodded significantly. 
believe it," said she. When we returned to 
the room, we found Jack sitting on the side 
of the bed and hastily buttoning up his 
boots. ^^Say, I'm going out again," said 
he. 

Going out ? " we all cried. Sick as 
you are ? " 

Yes, sick as I am," he returned. Don’t 
ask me why; I heard it all," and he motioned 
291 


FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE. 


US away with a reproving hand. You sent 
for a doctor that kills every one. Oh, no ex- 
cuses ; hut my mother’ll hear of these fine 
doings.” 

Colonel Lyons had just returned with 
some bouillon, and stopped abruptly in the 
doorway. Why ! ” he exclaimed, what’s 
the matter now — brain fever ? ” 

No ; I’m going out. Colonel,” said Jack. 
^^I’ve had enough of this business. My sister 
sent for the undertaker’s assistant — that’s 
who that man was.” He staggered a little 
as he rose, and we all saw that he couldn’t 
stand. 

^^I’ll take him into my room,” quickly 
suggested the Colonel, and send for some 
other physician. You’re right, my boy; 
undertakers’ assistants aren’t exhilarating,” 
we heard him say, as he led Jack from the 
room. 

In a few moments he returned. ^^I’ve 
learned the trouble,” he said. ^^It’s not 
dangerous,” he emphasized ; ^^but something 
that no one thought of.” For a moment 
295 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


he stood silently before us, then he held up 
a small empty box. ‘^It contained/’ said 
the Colonel, ‘^Jack’s first, and we hope his 
last, cigarettes r 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE END OF THE KEIGN. 

T he following telegram was handed to 
me when I entered the breakfast 
room the next Saturday morning. It had 
come the night before, too late to be deliv- 
ered. 

“Your mother arrives on the New York 
Saturday, 5 p.m. Expected you at Brevoort 
House every day. Rooms ready. — Edw. E. 
Crowninshield.” 

For the moment I stood as one in a 
dream. My mother and aunt were to ar- 
rive that afternoon at five, and Jack and I 
still in Stamford. What a cordial welcome 
they would think it was ! We had no way 
of reaching New York in time, unless we 
left Stamford at 10.35. It was already 
past nine. Without another thought, I 
rushed to Jack’s room. He had been out 
297 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


late the night before, and I hadn’t as yet 
awakened him. The door was unlocked, and 
blew ajar as I reached it. Jack,” I ex- 
claimed, hastening in, hurry! We must 
leave for New York.” But no Jack was 
visible. The bed-clothes lay on the floor, and 
the shades were all up. He had gone out. 

As I left, I met the Colonel going to 
breakfast. Yes, he’d seen Jack standing 
in front of the house hours ago. He hadn’t 
seen him to speak to that morning. 

I was informed by Mary that he had 
breakfasted at six, but didn’t say where he 
was going. Surely he had some place in 
view, but no one knew where. The train 
left at 10.35. I had hardly an hour in 
which to And him. There was no other 
train I could take until two that afternoon, 
which woifldn’t reach New York until eight 
o’clock that evening. That would be too late. 

Mrs. Lyons kindly volunteered to pack 
our trunks and send them to the station, if 
I would go out and And him. 

I started Sambo off, not having one clew 
298 


THE END OF THE REIGN. 


to Jack’s whereabouts. The Colonel and 
Jim took Eternity,” and went in the 
opposite direction, to Hobart. 

I reached Stamford before I had time to 
realize it. My first encounter was some 
small boys at the post-office. Had they 
seen Jack? They thought they had, and 
described him as a kinder tall boy with 
red hair.” 

^^Not red,” I explained; ^^but brown,” 
— and, boylike, they agreed accordingly. 
^^He had gone to the Baker place to pick 
apples ; either there or the Linleys’, whiph 
was only a mile beyond.” 

Both places were on the main road. 
Sambo started before I had time to get fur- 
ther directions; and, before I could stop him, 
the boys had faded like specks in the road- 
way. Sambo was, indeed, a fast horse. I 
could hardly see the houses as we fiew 
along. Twice I stopped him to learn from 
pedestrians that the Baker place was still 
farther on, and all the time the 10.35 
drawing nearer and nearer to Stamford. 

299 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


What could have possessed Jack to go out 
as an apple-picker, I wondered, when I had 
time for stray thought. Why didn’t he 
come to me for the money, instead of hir- 
ing himself out ? 

I reached the Baker place at 9.35, to be 
informed by them that over twenty-five 
boys were down in the apple-orchard pick- 
ing apples. I must go down there and pick 
him out ; they didn’t know one boy from 
another. There was no way of driving 
down, unless I went round the place, which 
was two miles and a half. 

Sambo commenced to grow restless, and 
I well saw that his good nature was being 
imposed upon. It was impossible to leave 
him, and I had no time to drive to the 
rear of the farm. The woman, evidently, 
thought me an escaped lunatic, for she 
sought shelter behind her screen-door be- 
fore she spoke further. She had no one 
to send down there except her small son, 
Benjamin, who never moved from the win- 
dow until I offered him half a dollar. 

300 



Heaven was our destination 


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THE END OF THE KEION. 


Run as fast as you can, Benjamin/' I 
called after him, and tell Jack to come at 
once." I would have sent more to my err- 
ing brother, but I well knew that an en- 
raged message would never bring him. 

Sambo watched the fleeing Benjamin, 
and, alarmed at the unusual commotion, 
backed the carriage into a large bed of 
asters. The woman, with a cry of an- 
guish, rushed upon us, and before I had 
time to apologize, the horse had taken to 
the road. 

Heaven was our destination, if a man 
hadn’t seized the bridle just as we ap- 
proached the gates. After feeing him liber- 
ally for the new lease of life, I turned Sambo 
round, to return to the Bakers’. There, in 
the dust, in the distance, stood a woman 
berating me. I could see her excited form 
as we drew nearer. Sambo pricked up his 
keen ears as we approached. He would 
have run over her, if the woman hadn’t 
escaped in the driveway. 

^^That horse is mad,’’ she cried. ^^I’m 
301 


A TWENTIETH CENTUEY BOY. 


going to have him shot. Look at them 
flowers. Ruined,'' she declared. 

Well, I expect to pay for them/’ I said 
quietly, as the horse stopped for water. 

But tell me, has your son Benjamin re- 
turned with my brother ? ” 

He’s a-coming now,” she said, evidently 
much relieved. ^^Here he is now, and 
seven boys with him.” 

They’re all named Jack or John,” her 
small son explained, introducing them. 

You kin take your pick.” 

Seven forlorn types of boyhood confronted 
me. Jack was not among them. I con- 
sulted my watch. It was ten minutes of 
ten 1 Perhaps Jack had returned home by 
this time, and the Colonel had him at the 
station awaiting me, while I was dashing 
around Stamford. But I well knew I had 
no time to return on any uncertainty. I 
would go on to the Linleys’. 

The Linleys had given up the idea of 
having their apples picked until Monday, 
so no boys were there ; although I was told 
302 


THE END OP THE REIGN. 

that a boy answering Jack’s description 
had been there. He had gone back to 
Stamford, on the south road. They 
allowed me to drive through their place, 
and as he had only been gone half an hour, 
I knew I could well overtake him on the 
home run.” Sambo was quite willing for 
the chase, and we returned in just half the 
time that it had taken us to go. 

We had met no one on the way home. 
At a grocer’s I learned that my small 
brother had passed there, — in fact, had 
stopped for some crackers. He had on a 
brown suit and derby, and he asked where 
he could get a fishing-line, as he wanted to 
go fishing. This puzzled me, for I knew 
Jack possessed no brown suit and derby, 
and was not in any need of fishing-lines. 
However, from the description, I was quite 
confident that the boy was my small 
brother, and urged Sambo on to Bonn’s 
sporting store. That was near to the 
station, and would be a convenient place 
to stop for him. On through the streets 
303 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY 


we went. Only two blocks more, and then 
the chase was over. 

It was now after ten. Bonn's store was 
soon reached, and with a happy heart I tied 
the tired Sambo to the hitching-post. Yes, 
a small boy had come in for fishing-tackle, 
and he was in the rear of the store. The 
man conducted me to the counter, to find a 
small boy in a brown suit and derby, and 
looking for a fishing-line, true enough, — 
but it was not Jack. He remained in obliv- 
ion. I went out, unhitched my impatient 
steed, and we drove on to the station. 

There were our trunks on the platform, 
strapped, checked, and directed to New 
York. The Colonel and Mrs. Lyons were 
in the waiting-room, and they came out as 
I drove by the window. I supposed that 
Jack was with them, and they were there 
to say good-by to us, but no such good 
news awaited me. 

They looked at me with the same ques- 
tioning glance that I gave them. I see you 
haven't Jack with you," said Mrs. Lyons. 

304 


THE END OF THE REIGN. 


I replied, ^^and I have been every- 
where.” 

^^And I, too,” exclaimed the Colonel; 
‘‘ and he hasn’t been seen by any one this 
morning.” 

^‘He is a very strangely behaved boy,” 
said Mrs. Lyons. The train will be here 
in six minutes, and I should advise you to 
go on it.” 

‘‘ Oh, no ; not without Jack,” I said. ‘^He 
would be so disappointed.” 

As if I should cater to him,” said Mrs. 
Lyons, exasperatedly. ^^When he comes 
home, we will send him down. I should 
certainly go in your place.” 

I shook my head. ‘‘ No, I will wait for 
him,” I said, though my voice was choked 
with disappointment. 

The train came, and the trunks went 
down to the city without us. I turned 
Sambo round, and we returned home, with 
Eternity” and my friends in the rear. 
Never had the boarding house looked so 
gloomy to me as to-day. Even the win- 
X 305 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


dows had a lonely look, I thought, as we 
approached. Every one had gone whom we 
had known there. Mr. Pitchorloser had 
returned to Philadelphia the week before. 
Mr. Lafavour had been gone a fortnight. 
Only a few people now remained there, and 
they were strangers to us. 

Mrs. Powers came forward as we drove 
up, and assisted us to alight. ^‘You de- 
cided not to go, then?” she said, as she 
helped me out. 

I couldn’t find Jack,” I replied, else I 
should be on the cars now. I can’t think 
where he went so early this morning.” 

Nor I,” she replied. A boy’s haunts 
are like the sands of the sea, and his moods 
as changeful.” 

^‘Very likely he is visiting an entirely 
new place to-day,” said Mrs. Lyons, coming 
up. He is a very restless, wandering boy, 
and very h_ard to please. I suppose he will 
be much aggrieved when he learns that I 
packed all his valuables without his permis- 
sion.” 


306 


THE END OF THE HEIGH. 

" That reminds me/’ exclaimed Mrs. 
Powers, that a gray coat of his was left 
in the stable. I found it there under a pile 
of blankets this morning. I’d better get it 
before it’s forgotten.” 

She disappeared, only to return a moment 
later with the garment. 

^^Then he wore his dark suit,” I said 
casually, as I felt through the pockets. I 
can strap this easily to his valise. Ah, a 
letter from my mother is in it ; and. Colo- 
nel,” I exclaimed, ‘^it’s a recent one. It 
arrived in Stamford last Tuesday ! ” 

Evidently has never been read,” he 
said, as I took it out. Probably found no 
money in it and never looked further.” 

^^It is likely,” said I; ^^let me read 
it.” 

It was a long letter of recent travels and 
anecdotes, concluding with this : — 

“ Auntie and I sail for home the twelfth of 
October, reaching New York on the nineteenth, 
as first planned. We shall expect to see sister 
and you as soon as we reach land. Cousin Ed- 
307 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


ward will have everything ready at the Brevoort 
House, and you can both go down any day you 
prefer to, only be on time to greet 
“Your devoted 

“ Mamma.” 

The letter fell from my hands. ^^Mrs. 
Lyons/’ I said, what do you think of 
that?” 

Oh, nothing,” she replied. It’s so 
like him. I suppose, as the Colonel said, 
he just glanced over the first page or two 
and, finding no money, tucked it away.” 

And never even mentioned that he re- 
ceived a letter,” I expostulated, ^^when 
he knew I was waiting for it.” 

Oh, he forgot it,” interrupted the Colo- 
nel, in behalf of his friend. Very likely 
never thought of it again. Ah, well, he is 
but a boy.” 

And a very provoking one,” said his 
wife. I don’t think he forgot that letter, 
only didn’t want to show it until he had 
time to read it, and that time never came.” 

W ell, his forgetfulness will cause 
308 


THE END OF THE REIGN. 


enough disappointment for one day/’ I said, 
as we went to dinner. 

The two o’clock train came, and departed 
without us, and the last train at seven did 
the same. 

Jack was evidently spending his remain- 
ing days in the mountains to the best of 
advantage. Twice, Mrs. Lyons and I drove 
to Stamford, in the hopes of finding him, 
and both times we were unsuccessful. 
He had been seen fully a dozen times 
within an hour, according to compiled 
statements, though never once, when we 
were on the lookout. We had finished 
supper, when a messenger from Stamford 
brought the following telegrams. One was 
to the Colonel, and one was addressed to 
me. 

“Brevoort House, October 19. 

“We arrived on the New York^ at five this 
afternoon. Jack met us. Will you come in the 
morning ? 

“Kathaeine B. Elliott.” 

Mrs. Lyons made no remarks, but turned 
309 


A TWENTIETH CENTURY BOY. 


to the Colonel and motioned for him to 
proceed. His telegram was also from New 
York: — 

*« Nicw York, October 19. 

“ Tell sister that they saw me, the rest you 
all will know. 

“ Jack.” 

Well/’ said Mrs. Lyons, pushing back 
her chair, I hope you are not going to say 
that you are surprised by this act of 
rascality?” 

I am,” said the Colonel, very much 
surprised. So he went to New York this 
morning, did he?” he continued, as he re- 
read it. 

Doesn’t it look so ? ” said his wife. 

The Colonel shook his head thoughtfully. 
^^Well, well,” he said, ^^so our next meet- 
ing is to be in New York, and this day 
has ended imwittingly Jack’s reign of 
terror.” 


310 





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